The Brown Eyed Dreamer

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


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A Love Affair with Eyes

There’s something about eyes that just captivates me. When a mask is carved and placed expertly over a face to create a void of emotion, eyes are the one things that consistently shine through and show how we really feel, who we truly are. Out of everything in a person, eyes always remain in my mind after the memory of a face has long since faded.

I love eyes of any colour, wide and child-like or small and scrutinising. I love eyes that are seas you could drown in, with hazy flecks of colours swimming through their gentle following colour. I love eyes surrounded by paths of crinkles and wrinkles that tell of a thousand frowns and a thousand smiles. I love eyes with glints of secrets shrouded within, the ghost of stories yet untold hiding and waiting to be discovered. I love eyes that express more than words and a smile ever could; eyes that create a memory so vivid it engrains itself into our very minds. I love the eyes of children, filled with innocent delight and an unending curious gleam. I love the eyes of the older, brimming with tears spilled and frothing with laughter, bright, wise sparks of life in a wrinkled, ageing face. I love how every eye sees the world in a different way, and how no two eyes could ever look the same; eyes who have withheld the beauty of this world and have endured pain and sorrow, eyes that reflect every memory in a kaleidoscope of colour and brightness that I can’t help but fall for each time I look upon them.
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A New Year

When people ask me, ‘Did you enjoy 2012?’, I have to think for a second before answering. Because in that moment, a thousand thoughts flurry through my mind’s eye in a kaleidoscope of colours and emotions.

I see family, friends, laughter, tears, shouting, cheering, love, loss, good points and bad points. I see late nights spent whispering, texting, over-analysing, crying and daydreaming with youthful hope. I see mornings spent running, eating, talking and dancing around my kitchen with my dog. I see a relationship that flourished then shrivelled and grew worn like a flower after Summer’s last sun. I see a friendship that became something more, then simply faded away. I see a summer that could’ve been the best and almost became the worst of my entire life. I see a fractured self-esteem only now learning how to mend itself. I see a dark time of trying to find answers to questions I didn’t have, a time where hands reached out and pulled me back up to a place of light and hope. I see faces, some happy, some sad, some just thoughtful. I see memories which I’ll cherish long after these years are over, memories that will still bring a shine to my eyes and a smile to my lips long after they happened. I see a new year, promising and full of childish hope and naïvety, just waiting for me to explore. I see it all, and then, coming out of my daze, I answer.
‘It’s been an interesting year,’ I reply, a small smile playing on my lips and the glint of a thousand memories and secrets yet untold reflecting in my curious eyes.


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A Love Like That

I want a love like my parent’s.

They met each other through church when they were just kids, and happened to be in the same group. My mum told me that she fell for my dad as soon as she met him, and decided that he was going to be hers. And from that day she obsessed over my dad and followed him like a lone sick puppy.
My dad, on the other hand, was not so fond of mum; in fact, he found her constant presence annoying. And so for most of high school she followed him around and he tried his very best to ignore her, his eyes always more focused on two pretty blond sisters in school. Constant rejection eventually got the better of my mum however, and eventually she must have given up on the idea of my dad, and passed him in the hallways without giving him a backward glance. And suddenly, dad started to notice mum.
In a strange kind of way, he missed her excitable giggly nature and how eager she was to please. He missed her small figure looking up at him with pure wonderment in her child-like eyes. He missed the daydreaming looks and small blushing smiles she flashed him when they passed by each other. He missed the girl, who, despite having an amazing ability to annoy him more than anyone else, loved him with her everything. He missed the girl who had once seemed so plain, and now stood out amongst everyone. And so it came to be that on one day at a church event, something pretty amazing happened.
Now, remember I mentioned the two blond sisters? Well, their mother seemed to think my dad was a perfect match for her daughters, and thought she’d tell my dad so.
‘Billy,’ she greeted him, a girl on either side of her, ‘I know you and my daughters would go very well together. Which of them would you like to go on a date with?’
Dad smiled a little, at two girls he’d spent most of his school life thinking about, then turned round to a small girl beside him. A girl with child-like eyes and a giggly nature, who’d spent years falling head over heels for him and hadn’t stopped. A girl who looked up at him at that very moment, her eyes clouded with confusion and tiny shreds of hope, her mouth ever so slightly agape.
‘I think,’ he replied, sliding an arm around her shoulders, ‘I think I’ll stick with Kay for now.’
And so they walked off, leaving a frustrated mother with two very pretty but slightly embarrassed sisters. Soon after they started dating, and years after that they got married. Now about twenty years later, their love is still as strong and pure as it was that day and the days that followed. Yes, they’ve had their hard times, but they’ve pulled through. They made it through the worst of it, and although there’s probably more to come I think they have a strength that can endure.
When I see my parents all I can see is this overwhelming love. A love that I think everyone should have a notion of, a love that one day I hope to find. A love that I hope finds me.


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The Little Things

The smell of freshly made coffee on a Sunday morning.

Sand falling through fingertips and breeze blowing through hair.

Rolling back over and falling back to sleep.

Goosebumps that cascade along spines when a new favourite song is played.

The feeling of being the only one awake in the world.

Setting down a pen after the last exam.

Waking up to shafts of sunlight pouring through the blinds.

The freshness of newly washed clothes.

Having a child scream your name and run towards you, arms outstretched with a huge grin.

Seeing the sun rise or counting the stars in the sky.

Watching someone smile and blush when you compliment them.

The sound of a piano in a huge and empty hall.

When coloured glass makes bright mosaics of light along the wall.

The musty smell of old bookshops and libraries.

Stumbling across a scrap-book full of memories and stories, vaguely familiar and almost forgotten.

The dull thud of rain against the window.

Babies wrapping tiny fragile hands around a finger.

 Because sometimes it’s the little things which are the most precious, and the most beautiful.


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When It All Began

I can still remember that night as if it only just happened. You called me to come up to your house  after everyone had left, and I snuck out with my dog, claiming I was taking him for a walk.

Shivering from the cold, I stood and waited outside your house for you to come out, and when you appeared at the door, I just about fought the urge to break into a huge smile. When you came outside, you instantly noticed I was cold and wrapped your arms around me to stop me from shivering so much. I leaned into you, letting your arms wrap around me and burying my face into the soft scent of your hoody. And we stood there hugging in the cold autumn air, my dog sniffing absent-mindedly at our feet.

Eventually you broke the silence. ‘Remember that Thursday, you said I had to tell you if I ever liked you again?’

I nodded, my head still resting on your chest. “Yeah?’ I replied questioningly, unable to keep the shakiness out of my voice from the cold and the growing butterflies thundering inside me.

‘Well… I like you.’

I broke apart from you slightly, far enough so I could look up into your eyes.Up into those bright blue eyes I’d been daydreaming about for months. Up at you, the boy who had been my 11:11 wish, my last thought at night, my reason for smiling. The boy who had just uttered the three words I’d been waiting years to hear. I looked up at you, and then without a thought, I leaned in and I kissed you.

A short kiss, a sweet kiss. A kiss that threatened to make the butterflies explode from my chest and fill the sky like confetti. A kiss that took my breath away and left my body melting into yours. A kiss that sent a ricochet of goosebumps dancing down my spine. A kiss that whispered a thousand secrets and screamed ‘finally!’ into the crisp night sky.

We broke apart slowly, eyes locked. And I couldn’t keep the smile from escaping my lips this time as I stared at you giving me the same goofy smile back. Such a perfect smile, this time directed at me. Me. You like me.

‘Well it’s a good thing I like you back then, isn’t it?’


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All Kinds of Friends

There’s so many different kind of people you meet in life, and so many types of friends.

There’s the friends who know everything about you, who could mimic your actions and parrot your words. The friends who know just how to make you laugh or make you happy, who can always tell when something is wrong even when you’re putting on your best brave face. The friends who know your every secret and insecurity, but don’t judge or gossip. The friends who are like your twins, so alike to you that you almost merge into each other.

Then you have the friends you can be stupid with, the ones who you can always count on to make your chest hurt and your eyes stream from laughter. The friends who remind you that life shouldn’t be taken to seriously and help you to see the best side of things. The friends who make you giggle at inappropriate times, or laugh loudly when you should really keep your voice down. The friends that are the most fun to be with, always up for a laugh.

You have the friends that are there for a crisis, when all your other friends turn your back on you. The friends who sit for hours on end listening to your troubles, your angry rants, your fears, giving you advice on what to do or simply just listening to you. The shoulders to cry on, these friends are here for you when you most need them, and know they can come to you when they need you as well.

There’s the friends you text constantly, the friends you only see now and then but your friendship is always as strong as ever, the friends who are there to gossip with, the friends who you always have a good conversation with, the friends you could never get bored of, the friends you couldn’t live without, the friends you can’t remember meeting but will never forget.

And then sometimes out of the blue comes a different friend. A friend who is all of these personalities combined, who you can talk with, laugh with, cry with. A friend who likes some of the things as you, who knows you inside and out and who you know inside out. And you call this person your absolute best friend, and the both of you live happily ever after together in a world of personal jokes, late night deep conversations, random meet-ups and perfectly imperfect friendship.