The Brown Eyed Dreamer

'Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.' William Wordsworth


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The First Night

All I can remember of those rooms,
Was a haze that fell along the walls,
And laughter that rose and fell like
Confetti bursts at the final bell toll.
I remember smiles wide as sunlight,
And kisses from foreign, familiar faces-
Promises that friendships made
Would not be forgotten.

But most of all I remember
The soft, sweet certainty that
Told me even if every other night
Of these 365 memories is laced
With bittersweet regret;
This night would remain the beacon
Of a beautiful,
Wonderful,
New Year.

Morning all! This post was quickly scribbled about five minutes ago as I’m walking to work so I apologise in advance if it makes no sense. 2013 for me was a wonderful year, and I was fortunate enough to spend the transition into 2014 with some of my most favourite people.
In regards to 2014, I can only hope it brings me good music, good food and good memories with the very best friends. I hope you all had a fantastic New Year and that this year will be the very best yet. Have a wonderful day!

~thebrowneyeddreamer


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Advice for Lost and Lonely Souls

If you ever feel sad turn your head to the sea;
Feel the morning breeze lace through your hair
Let problems slip like sand through open palms
And let the ocean’s cool, frothy fingertips
Caress your cheek and calmly, gently,
Carry your troubles away from shore.
If you ever feel lost bury your head in a book;
Fill your nose with the musty scent of yellowed pages,
Run your fingers along loved and weathered spines,
And swim deep down in a pool of words
To lands where adventure awaits you,
And lets you disappear.
If you ever feel empty fill your head with music;
Feel the melodies cascade across your bruised skin,
Let sweet serenades seal the cracks within your soul
And follow those soft, hopeful rhythms
With eyes closed and ears wide open;
Teach your heart to beat again.


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We’ll fall in love with the memories we’ll make.

And someday I’m going to leave this place and see the world and I’m going to fall in love. Not with a person, no- that kind of love is too bittersweet, too heartbreakingly fragile.

I’m going to fall in love with buildings and pavements and old rusting street signs pointing me to places I’ve yet to explore. I’m going to fall in love with sunsets and sunrises, and those precious melancholy moments between dusk and dawn where reality slips away into shadows and dreams appear. I’m going to fall in love over half-finished cups of coffee and faded musty books that still hold the imprints of fingers stroking lovingly over their dog-eared pages. I’m going to fall in love with the feeling of sand falling through my fingers and the sound of the ocean in a storm. I’m going to fall in love with the creaking of a house in the night-time and the endless patter of rain against my window. I’m going to fall in love with the people I meet and the places I see, the sounds I hear and the foods I taste.

I’m going to fall in love, but not with you, with everything this world can offer me.


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Darling- A Letter of Hope

Darling, how could you want to die?
Times have been hard lately darling,
We can see the pain in your eyes-
But please don’t utter those horrible words;
Don’t tell us you want to die.

How could you want to die
When you have ears to hear music,
And feet to dance along?
When you have a head to feel life’s pain
And a heart to grow strong?

How could you want to die
With so many books to find and read
And so many waiting tales?
With so many paths to be uncovered
And so many seas to sail?

Darling, how could you want to die?
There’s still so much hope here
And it’s waiting outside your door,
Darling how could you want to die
When there’s so much in life to live for?


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‘You know I’d never hurt you.’

‘You know I’d never hurt you.’

There’s something so hauntingly bittersweet about that line. Humans are fragile creatures; we bruise and scar like our hearts are made of paper slowly shredding into confetti. We know how vulnerable we are, but we still clumsily hand over our souls to every open palm, only to be forced to stand and watch emotions crushed and bled through menacing fingers. And yet… there’s still a childish curiosity that lingers between our ribcage, a hopeful naivety that flutters and begs to break free. Trust. Hope. It reminds you of laughter, smiles- those memories you tried in vain to suppress because it’s safer to forget, easier to pretend. Love. Peace. It strokes your poor, beaten heart and whispers: ‘Maybe this time will be different.’

Strain to hear it above the chaos of your cluttered mind. Promises break like rusted chains and sometimes people hurt you even when they didn’t want to.That whisper is the sole reminder that things can be better- wounds heal and people can change. Sometimes you have to listen to that tiny whisper in the dark, and just try. Sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith across the chasm of doubts we call life and pray that someone will be there to catch you on the other side. And someday someone will catch you- and maybe they’ll hurt you sometimes, but you know they’ll heal you too.


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Little Monsters

There’s a monster who lives inside our heads;
A tiny demon who feasts on the doubts that
Fall from the tears and
Drip from the blood and
He grows, he grows, he gets louder.

There’s a monster who lives inside our heads;
A little creature who feeds you the lies that
Make the tears fall and
Make the blood drip but
You’ve just got to learn how to fight him.