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Break your heart, like stab yourself to death, nearly, but don’t stop dreaming. Ever.


25 is a funny age to be. Especially when it just turns the tables and you know nothing that you knew any more. Everything has changed. You tell yourself, “It has changed for Good”. And you define good in your head. Yet in your weakest of moments you transport yourself to the safety of two arms, that are now just in your head, but they tell you it will be okay. That your world is what it was. That you aren't a homeless wanderer, that there is a home, there is a pair of arms. They tell you and you believe them. And you sleep off in their comfort, only to wake up the next day and Break your heart all over.

It’s the price of freedom, you tell yourself. This feeling of homeless, you have to live with it. And that searing pain you feel, you wonder if its regret or hope. But you hope it’s neither. Where is freedom you scream, and then you run. Yet nothing moves, and you wish you could run in time instead and days would fly forward, or fly back. That you could transport yourself to some future, near o distant (or a past), where there’s freedom, but not the pain.

But you pull yourself up, nevertheless. And you dream about ambling on seashores, and lakes in mountains, you are in a train compartment, you are at the window seat in the bus, there’s an island, there’s a long winding road, there are coconut palms, there are mustard fields, there are blue seas, there are grey skies, there are clouds, there are white walls, there are lush green tree tops,  there’s a river side, there are white sands, you are running, you are flying, over clouds, you are scribbling, you are singing, there are birds, you are walking, you are talking …

You fall in love, you break your heart, you feel dead, nearly, but you hold on to the illusions your brain creates at midnight, and it pulls you to life, slowly, with the rising sun. And as you drag yourself reluctantly to the washroom, brush in hand, and stare in the mirror at the birds’ nest over your head, your smile touches that little child inside you, and it giggles with you, and you know you are alive, even before you splash water on your face to touch the day. You make yourself believe that you are a phoenix , you tell yourself it’s a new day, and in those brief moments before reality touches you, you can be whatever you want, you know answers to all the questions that haunt your head, you know your truth and you make a pledge, never to stop dreaming. Ever.
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