#dreamsvsreality
Time sits still in a dream, my skin stays lucid,
quiet… too quiet. Like a body paused between
moments, breath held as if waking would ruin it.
Sometimes I am a movie: still frames stitching
words into pictures, pictures dissolving into dreams…
And these dreams— feel more real than anything
I’ve lived awake. I am a romantic flick— but I’ve
been more romantically involved to my fears;
Dressed in soft persuasion, they linger close—
whispering reasons not to try. I entertain them…
let them sit too near: an affair with hesitation,
that feels safer than stepping outside.
We flirt with endings; death in the distance,
dressed in quiet certainty; and we dress our
doubts in reason— reasonable doubts, tailored
thoughts, fitted just right— but what is reasonable
doubt when doubt keeps rewriting the script?
A reason to doubt.
I can’t deny these dreams, the way they
sit quiet… but alive— resting in my chest
like a heartbeat waiting to be heard.
Do you hear me in these words?
May 1
May 1, 2026 at 5:48 PM UTC
Plotting a course toward destiny isn’t as romantic as it sounds.
Some days, I feel like I’m walking on half-baked schemes rather
than solid plans—improvising hope on cracked pavement.
There’s a “field of dreams,” sure, but not the kind where the
grass is greener. Instead, it’s overrun with the weeds of
disappointment—unwelcome thoughts I have to keep plucking
from my mind before they take root. As I try to find cover under
the so-called tree of life, but even its shade feels uncomfortable.
_Too warm. Too uncertain._ And rest doesn't come so easy when
your thoughts are always so heavy.
And tell me—if someone else’s life came with a perfect promo,
_polished_ and _so promising_, would you still blame me for
my __FOMO__? I mean, what if their dream life is the one I was
supposed to live? What if I just missed the sign-up link? To catch
myself trying to live out the picture of someone else’s success,
because this life of mine? It’s painfully __YOLO__. And I try to
keep my horses steady, but envy isn’t exactly a stable creature.
It wears me down, day by day, like I’m stitched together by
Polo—fashionable on the outside, but worn-out underneath.
Failure, though? Now that’s the real villain. It doesn’t just sting—
it lingers, like emotional __PTSD__. It makes you flinch at the idea
of trying again, as if effort itself is a pointless punishment.
And fingers? Oh, fingers love to point—especially at people
who haven’t gotten far. But when it comes time to point out
themselves, they suddenly feel too short.
Still, I keep my fingers crossed, quietly hopeful I might achieve
something real—_something I truly want as a need_. It’s a bright
hope, exhausting in its intensity. But even in darkness, there’s
always the flicker of a new light waiting to be found.
Jul 19, 2025
Jul 19, 2025 at 5:49 PM UTC
The picture I had drawn, it's fading.
This darkness is getting denser.
I'm desperately fighting.
Reality has become a nightmare.
The dream has grown more vivid.
I'll disappear someday, just like my nights disappeared from my reality.
The things you had promised me have become a fallacy.
Still trying to draw you, but it's taking longer.
Does she still look the same?
How would I know that?
Jul 3, 2025
Jul 3, 2025 at 3:20 PM UTC
_Tick Tick_; goes my heart in the line of a drumbeat
whereas I stray away from long hugs – __it’s an awkward heat__
A stray dog shows love to any hand that helps them eat,
so sure — call me a treat when you say so I’m sweet...
Just don’t toss me out on the street; or throw my heart over
the waters of selling me a dream – __just to make it skip a beat.__
_Hiss, hiss_; is how even the sweetest of kisses can go –
giving a lover a part of my soul – stepping out with my love;
__Being so much like their sole__. Meets and greets; those events
and your people – but if I see they’re not good for your soul,
Don’t expect me to tolerate them at all. Those are the snakes
waiting to bite you, and their venom will poison us both.
_Click, click_; are usually those friendships that won’t last –
blind mice, never calling you out; for the good times to last
Friendships made for the hype, the interest of camera smiles,
but never a picture of genuine trust. Your attention to their
problems is a must, but paying attention to your problems
is too expensive – and that just cheapens love, and I doubt
they would have a problem not showing any value for us -
And in their many smiles, is a smile of joy that we didn't last.
But then again, I’m not in love – but if I was,
I guess these sorts of guidelines should be a must for us.
To make a love that holds onto __loyalty, truth, and mutual trust.__
Jun 29, 2025
Jun 29, 2025 at 6:38 PM UTC
In a room where books pile high,
Echoes of dreams refuse to die.
A restless mind, a weary soul,
At twenty-four, still chasing a goal.
Through the window, the world spins fast,
A blur of futures, a ghost of past.
The sun dips low, the sky turns red,
Yet here I sit, lost in my head.
Lines of code and circuits bright,
Mock me softly in the dimming light.
A degree framed, but dust collects,
On promises life won’t protect.
I reach for a cigarette, pause mid-air,
What would it change? Who would care?
The smoke might dance, the ember glow,
But answers? No, they never show.
Dreams cost time, and time runs thin,
A battle fought but hard to win.
Yet somewhere deep, a spark remains,
A quiet fire, defying chains.
So I let the match slip from my hand,
Breathe in deep, and make a stand.
Not today, I tell the night—
Not today, I'll lose this fight.
Feb 28, 2025
Feb 28, 2025 at 1:32 AM UTC