Saturday, November 21, 2009
.JPG) hmmm... *ehem* Someone wanted me to post a pic. Well, there you go... *runs away* Saturday, November 7, 2009 It has been secondsminitesdaysweeksmonths since I've ever posted in this blog. Well, finally now I get the chance to continue my story scrapped from my imagination. I know it's not that good yet. But as long as someone's reading it, I'll keep writing. So let your imagination fly free! ... Chapter Two. The Dream. THIS WAS THE FIRST TIME in my entire life that I've woken up with a bright smile on my face. The marigold sunshine of the early morning polished the blue-framed sky. I watched the birds fly, flutteting their wings freely. Free and calm. And somehow, I wished I could be those birds and fly high together with them. To see the world like I've never seen it before. Fly to the highest point and look down from below, watch the life I've always been living in past by. But then again, I can only dream of flying. I closed my eyes. I tried hard to recall back what I've dreamt last night. A dream I had always been dreaming for. It was different from my other dreams, special in a good way. It was just surreal. A part of those feelings in that dreams were so real. I could still feel his words linger in my memory. Who was that boy? He was like an angel in my dreams. And for the first time ever, I had actually felt important to someone. But that would be absurd. I know that deep down, it was all just an illusion. The boy, the lust, the love and the hope. What I call it; Dreams. They are like reflection of our minds, of what we've all thinking. Thoughts we never thought of before and those that we're constantly thinking about. It's all reflected in our dreams. A bank of our imagination. But you see, I live in my own world now. A world made up of my imagination and dreams. It's only in my dreams that I could ever feel safe. In my dreams, that I could walk with the knowlegde that I never walk alone. In my dreams, that I could behold profound happiness. In my dreams, that I could never get hurt or know any pain. But it's a fact that I'm in a world that isn't real at all. It's nice and I love to dream. It's nice because when I dream, I have no worries, I don't think. I'll just let my mind and imagination wander off. Setting free every single pain, worries, sufferings from the reality. And I've never felt better. And maybe that's my kind of way to escape from the cruel reality. Immersing myself with great imagination. |
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