What Beauty

I am delighted by the existence of trees and mountains; waterfalls and great beasts. I am entertained by the way your hair dances in the wind. I’m taken aback by the sudden courage of flowers to rise from frosty grounds.

I demand a certain amount of beauty in my life. Because of this I look for it everywhere. I am a philocalist. My eye catches a glimmering sparkling rock on the murky shores and I am in awe. I notice the way your lips part to say hello and I am left speechless. The fruits that bare themselves from May to September make me blush.  I see it all around me. Beauty. There is so much of it in this world.

From people holding hands to babes being born, the world is sealed with a touch of loveliness. One can’t help but smile as the world turns, showing you a magnitude of awe inspiring beauty. If you can’t see it, you can employ your other senses. Listen to the rivers that flow through your cities, the pitter patter of little puppy feet or the boom and clash of rock bands.

Smell the sweet beautiful scent of your true love or the bakery down the road. Run your hands through the leaves just before autumn descends. Press yourself against your lover and hope time will stop. It’s everywhere. The world is made of beautiful things and moments.

And yet, I sometimes struggle to see it in me. It is as if the poetry and romanticism of life stops at me. It sounds so self loathing. But it’s nothing like that. I am well aware that my existence is beautiful and that I am apart of this great beautiful thing called the circle of life, but when I separate myself from that, when I really think of myself as an individual, I sometimes fail to see the beauty that is so  apparent in other things.

You see, I’m ill. Sickness is an ugly sort of thing. When I reach out and touch life outside myself it sometimes reminds me of my rotting self which I very much detest at times. Perhaps that is how I became a philocalist in the first place. I wanted so badly to remind myself that life is essentially beautiful and worth living.

website // tumblr // twitter



9:43 PM

Don’t be afraid

Just dance

No one is watching

The moonlight has us hypnotized

We’ve all gone mad

Madly in love with life

Flirting with our inner selves

Hoping for a lasting relationship

Turn up the sound of your heart

Till it drowns out your fear

You’re dancing

You’re dancing

Dancing in the moonlight


Summer is calling his name

But will he live to see it

It hasn’t rained in ages

His mind is a desert

His heart is trying to be an oasis

The pills are killing him

But they do it slowly

Long enough for him to see

How you’ll all manage fine without him


10:01 PM

Everyone is laughing but I just don’t get the joke

Maybe I’m too young for it. Maybe I’m too old for it

They’re laughing and smiling as if they’re under a spell

But I seem to be immune to it

I’m trying to find the humor in it

Trying to see what they see

But I’m blind to it. It’s just not funny

And then I realize…the joke’s on me


11:41 am

snowy lovers

A mass of soft white flakes drift down kissing her nose and lips

I envy them

They wrap themselves around her and lay in her hair

I envy them

They will be part of daydreams as they rest on her eye lashes

I envy them

They are but temporary lovers melting away just as quickly as they came

They envy me


website // tumblr // twitter

9:25 pm


Google won’t be able to find your post I am often told because I don’t take make the effort to properly write for search engines. That’s the trouble with having a creative writing blog, getting found. But that’s also the beauty of it and why I like having a creative writing blog. I don’t have to write for search engines.

I write for myself first and foremost. I write for the few of you who take the time to read my posts (many thanks). Google can’t begin to comprehend the kind of day I’ve had or even care so why should I cater to it. I’m not blogging for fame or profits.

This isn’t to say I do this as a hobby, but I’m not trying to become so great internet guru. I just like to tell stories and share my life in poetic form. It doesn’t appeal to Google but it does make me happy and at the end of the day that’s what matters.

I say all of this as someone who is fully aware of SEO and content creation. I write professionally for other bloggers, helping to make them money and giving them tips on how to create a brand with their blogs. I’m not ignorant to the “correct” methods of building a popular blog. I simply am not interested in following those rules with this blog.

This blog is like my garden. It’s where I kick back and relax away from the pressures of being a “writer.” I get to create, dream, read, and connect with others. I know this post doesn’t follow my usual “time diary” post but hey it’s my blog and I can do what I want. That’s the beauty of having a creative blog…you can be as creative as you want to be.

website // tumblr // twitter

Thoughts on New Year’s Resolutions

The streets are a colorful splendor of gold and silver. A white carpet covers the sidewalk. It is winter. It is January. It is a new year. Some how those two words, new year, give one a different outlook on life. The air smells of hope. It smells of change. You feel as though you have gained a new sense of power. At the stroke of midnight you became a different person. You became new. At least that is how you want to feel. You want to leave the nodus tollens behind and create a plot twist that will stun even you.

That is how I felt for many Januarys. I felt as though I was waking up from a dream into a more sparkling reality, one that suited me better. This year will be better I always said to myself. But why? Why should one change in the calendar suddenly alter your life. It doesn’t. But it gives the surge to alter their own. January, February, May, July, October. It doesn’t matter. Your life can change at any moment. You can decide at any point of time, right now if you wish, to make some great drastic escape from the past and plunge yourself into the existence you felt you are meant to have.

But January makes us feel as though we have some control. We have been given a second chance. You makes lists of all you’ll accomplish, places you’ll go, people you’ll see. You tell yourself that all the troubles of yesterday, are safely locked behind the bars of last year. They can’t reach out and touch you. They won’t spoil things.

I like to fool myself into thinking that I am more self aware, more confident, more motivated come new year. The clock strikes midnight and like a superhero I transform. I am no longer my old self. I am something brilliant, like the fireworks that light up the sky, leaving all in awe.

All I really want however is to be a slightly better version of myself. I want that on a day to day basis. I want to wake up feeling like who I was yesterday would admire who I am today. This doesn’t always happen. I fall back into old habits. I get confused. I second guess myself. I am still me at the strike of midnight. The loud cries of cheer and exuberance doesn’t change a thing about me. But it makes me want to change and that is a start. January is a good place to start.

Try not to put too much pressure on yourself just because it is a new year. We are still after all human. We are under construction and that is beautiful. We are beautiful. Life is beautiful. Here’s to you and your beautiful year.


Until September

She said, dance with me until December–before the cold wind blows and we’re left frozen in our memories.

She said, kiss me until July–until the heat’s so intense were melting into one another.

She said, hold me until September–until the changing colors changes your heart and you forget your love for me; before the rains washes away what remains of us; before time catches up to us and turns us into dust.