The Brown Eyed Dreamer

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


Leave a comment

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


Leave a comment

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.


Leave a comment

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.


Leave a comment

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?


3 Comments

‘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.


2 Comments

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.


Leave a comment

Block.

I miss writing. It used to be that a pencil never left my hand, that ideas always fled into my head. I’d write whenever I could find time, and whenever I didn’t really have time too. Characters, plots, journeys and worlds would flood from my mind and spill onto paper, filling page after page of the cheap notebooks I bought from the store. I loved building a  story until it almost become a world around me, with most nights spent scribbling down everything I could think of until I could get my characters to the end of their adventure. I miss the thrill of new ideas, the hours spent in the corners of libraries and cafés planning and the satisfaction of finishing.

These days, there’s not enough time, not enough energy. School builds walls around my daydreams, reminding me of my responsibility to do well, of the importance of my future, while all the time my mind scurries like a bird trapped in a cage, willing to escape from studying for subjects I care nothing for. And as all this is happening, a greater wall looms above, dark and menacing, blocking any idea from coming to me. I feel trapped, bored, yet too exhausted to make a change.

But I swear, this drift is only temporary, and I will be back. A mind cannot stay trapped forever, and soon the shackles of exams will be broken and I’ll be free to spend hours filling pages with every trace of my thoughts. Soon I can go back to the one thing I love most. And when I get back, maybe the sparks will ignite and ideas will burst back into life, and I can carry on as before; a dreamer.

That’s all I can hope for, for now.


2 Comments

I Wear My Dreams

I wear my dreams
Around my neck,
So hope lies close to me.
Slim silver chain
Holds silver tower,
And tiny silver key.

Tower talks of tales,
In new lands where
Real towers stand tall.
Key holds the secrets
Of mind’s wishes,
And silver chain holds all.


Leave a comment

I Think I’ll Be Okay.

The last couple of weeks have been awful. Exam stress and my over thinking mind combined to make a minefield of angry bombs exploding doubts and fear in my face no matter how precariously I stepped to avoid their trap. I spent so much time feeling horrible and people were beginning to notice, some even commenting on it, asking me to cheer up. But it was only this morning I realised something very important. I was in a bad place, but that wasn’t a bad thing.

I realised I’m allowed to get sad once in a while. I can lock myself in my room, turn off the lights and turn up my music. I can spend hours listening to Radiohead and David Bowie and crying silently into a pillow. I can write down everything I feel, let every slice of pain, doubt and anger cutting at my mind splash onto the page before me. I can fall asleep or just lie there motionless, thinking of everything and nothing. I can stay in there all night without emerging, alone, slow steady chords rolling forlornly through my head. I can be sad if I want to. It’s normal. It’s human.
I can always be happy tomorrow. But if I’m not happy in the morning, that’s okay too. I can refuse to get dressed or put effort into my appearance. I can make myself food and go back to my room, passing half-heartedly mumbles to my parents as I pass. I can ignore text messages, Skype calls, human contact. I can refuse to see people I don’t want to see. I can shut myself off if I want to. It’s ordinary. It’s fine.
People seem to believe that sadness is a bad thing. That crying is weakness, and not being okay is definitely not okay. But let me tell you something- you don’t have to be happy today. You don’t have to be happy tomorrow. If you don’t want to be better today, you don’t have to be. You’re not weak because you’re sad and can’t face it anymore; you’re strong because you’ve carried pain this far. Everyone has a time when they’re down. You shouldn’t feel pressured to be alright just because everyone else wants you to be happy. You’re not a burden because you don’t feel your best.
You’re a person, and if you’re sad, you can be sad. Just know that even if you don’t want to be happy now, there will be a day when happiness will be a welcome friend. And on that day you can step out and take its hand and it will be just fine, I can promise you that. But until then you can cave into your sorrow if you want. To hurt is to be human. Happiness is patient; it will wait. That is the lesson I learnt this morning.
So no, today I am not okay, and tomorrow I may not be okay either. But guess what? That’s okay.