a dream becomes real

The stream of happiness that bubbles up from your toes to your nose. The feeling of being held, in the warmth and comfort of someone's arms. The mindless tracing across the palm of your hand. The soft laughter encompassing the small space between them. Holding on to the neck of another who makes you feel this way.

a dream of the previously unknown

An open book. A blank canvas. An unwritten song. Possibilities. Possibilities of wondrous things, of mistakes. A walk in the woods on a cold autumn day. Can lead you to the previously unknown. The unknown becomes the known and now you know.

a dream of informality

Staring at empty words, full of promise. We as humans are broken down to words typed by the skin of our fingers. No longer can you hear the comfort of a voice and enjoy the embrace of friend. We are debased to the false solace of a mere arrangement of letters on a faintly lit screen.

a dream of happiness

This is happiness. Staring out at tree lined streets from a window of opportunity. Lights glittering in the shop and on the full leaved trees, paving the way for a successful future.The feeling of ownership, content, and independence are found in this moment of paid exhaltment.

a dream by the window

The cool, calm breeze of the autumn day filters through the window. Ruffling the pages, the breeze opens a book and reveals the printed words. Over the cold toes it continues, bringing a smell of dampness that's pleasing to the owner of the toes. Swirling the fur of the cat, the line of air causes the dreaming animal to stretch in pure relaxation. Moments of blissful content happen near windows, with the prospect of a new day swaying in the breeze.

a dream of patterns

Patterns, patterns. Always emerging, always forming. No matter where you are you're still you. You with the same patterns, the same insistent life, the same fate. It seems one cannot escape the circle of destiny.

a dream in time

We're always changing. We have our past and our present selves. We can't go back to the past but we can head dutifully toward the future.

a dream in a dreamworld

Wallowing in a dark place in life is dangerous. Oftentimes one deliberately ignores the rope available to climb out. And confidence is a kite slipping into the wind, out of my fingers. But this is a necessary stage in life. It is only me.

a dream of the possibilities

Torn between three homes. I'm spread thin, like ice. Prone to crack; prone to freeze. I could go either way. But I'm held in the center of this trifecta. Three, Three, Three. So many things lost, so many things gained. Here, there. Alone, together. Living in a world of possibilities.

a dream of freedom

Freedom is a lovely thing. Yet you realize that other people dictate the rules in this world. Other people control your life. What to wear, what to do, how to act, where to live. Freedom is an illusion. You are taught that you have freedom of choice but you do not. You are tied down with a rope held by someone else. And there is nothing you can do.

a dream and a laugh

Some days a dream is a whisper of a magical fantasy. The moment is all you know, but you can't help relishing in the delight of the unknown. Illogical happiness fills you up despite current conditions. In fact, you spin and twirl with your daily surroundings, remedying in a laugh. Laughing can cure even the most twisted depression.

a dream in a new place

Days are passing faster than you can stop them. Hours filled with boxes and packing paper, which instead should be full of spontaneous outings with close friends. Unfamiliar faces pass without any recognition. You find yourself yearning for somone, anyone to simply talk to outside a nameless house. But fantasies are not enough this time around. Reality is too clear.

a dream in the mind

Everyone has different versions of themselves. There's the you with various friends, you with family, you in a public setting, etc. The only time you can truly be yourself is when you're alone. Alone and thinking. Your mind is your only true possession, so savor it.

a dream in the new

Day after day it's there. Waiting. Mocking. Speeding things up like a broken timepiece. But this time it's harder, because I know what to expect--the unglamorous part of it, the loneliness, the unknown submersion. Yes, it's inevitable but one can still grieve. Grieve over another lost self, another life, another home. Helplessly wonder about the new. Maybe things will improve this time around. They did the first time, if ever so slightly. One can hope.

a dream of me

A different version of yourself. Who you could have been. A life not lived but dreamed of. Thoughts roam in your head and you ask yourself is that version better than me? A life so close, but one thing changed everything. Everything. Something out of your control turned the whole world upside down and now it's happening again. Again. A new version, an old version. So many me's.

a dream in the moment

You're in the moment. You wish it could last. But that thought keeps nagging you--it's going to end, inevitably. You feel elated, alive but can't shake the feeling that it will never come again. Those clichés sound just fine and dandy when you hear them bounce around, but when it comes to real life you can't forget the past, not worry about the future, and live in the moment. The moment's too good to last, and you know it. At least we have our memories. Without them, we are nothing.

a dream in a thought

I started thinking...is this all there is? Dying youth, college years, young adulthood, marriage, children? What's the drive that keeps us sane? The invisible line guiding us on the tightrope of life? But then there are those moments. Moments to reflect on, to savor, to laugh at. Friends and family really do change you. Experiences shape you. You just have to find those special people, those life-changing memories.

a dream is yours

A dream can sweep you off your feet. A dream lingers with you and only you. You can go wherever you want, see whatever you want, be with whoever you want in your dreams. They are your most personal treasure. A little dream can infuse your mind with happiness. Succumb to the dream-you. Your dreams teach you to be yourself, show you your deepest desires, and allow the impossible. Who says dreams aren't real?

a dream in a phase

I'm just a phase. I fade in, I fade out. I try to make an impact, but in the end all change reverts itself back. Except me. I'm different. Withered. Gone. Thrown into the waters of anew. Emotions consume my head, hurt my heart. Love is unknown to me. Maybe I should just love myself.

a dream monitored by a clock

That moment of pure and absolute inexactatude. The ambiguity is endless. The sense of loss is undesirable. Seemingly forever. When you're no longer in control of your fate, you're lying helplessly in the hands of someone else. Something else. Your heart exposed to the ruthless cold blade of life. Of death. Of change. Everything starts to remind you, nagging like the ticking of a clock destined to stop. It's too much. tick. tock. stop.

a dream in a bubble

We live in a subjective world. Our little bubble--full of people, likes, memories, change, dreams--is one in a million. What we see determines what we believe. What we learn predicts the outcome of our future. Who we know shapes our hearts forever. But this planet is only so big. There may be another you, someone so alike it forces you to question yourself. How do we stand out? What can we do to be special? These questions haunt us at times, like wisps of clouds obscuring other thoughts. But there is only one you. With every step you take, your bubble absorbs unique experiences that inevitably forms your individuality. You are you. No questions asked.

a dream with a problem

You're repeatedly told that people have worse problems. Things could be worse, be happy with what you have, all the banal phrases come and go. But we're all selfish in one sort of way. How can we always be privy to other people's thoughts and problems when we're busy with our own? When even your dreams are infected with this disease-ridden problem, that's when you should start to worry.

a dream in the unknown

It's happening again. The Circle. The whispered conversations. The Voices. The Tears. The Looks. The hesitant questions, probing for answers. Answers to comfort, answers to calm. The Searching. It's not reassuring. Au contraire. The future looms ahead like a clouded day, fog obscuring the mind, the eyes, and the mind's eye. What happens next is a result of the future. My whole life is at stake. Both mental and physical. The success is determined young. Let's take a walk on the path of the Maybe. It may be one way, it may be the other, but it's always straight. This is the place where Dreams are no longer a safehaven. Where the best Dream is to stay and be still, like a quiet object in the rushing moments of life.

a dream in the future

Everything I know, everything I am, slipping through my fingers. Everything I thought about the future crumbles away like dust through the cruel hands of fate. Every abstract notion haunts me, always clenched in the back of my mind. Fading friends stand on the innocent sands of shore while I wave goodbye, never to be the same again. Trapezing like a funambulist with a practiced smile plastered on my face as I walk on the thin tightrope of life, on the brink of falling down into the depths of the dark abyss.

a dream in the rain

A raindrop falls onto the outreaching hand of a mangled, lichen-covered tree. It drips down, following an unseen path like a salmon instinctively struggling upstream to its birthplace. Traveling over gnarls, the veins of soggy leaves, and even through the cracks in bark. Once the tiny drop of sky reaches its destination-the earthy ground-it gets soaked up, and has the pleasure of starting life.

a dream with a pencil

One must have an observing eye and a steady hand. Holding the pencil, you lightly connect the paper and utensil-the means and the end. Intricately yet freely sketching an object, you study its curvature, shadow, and impression. With a pencil, one has limited means to communicate, yet unlimited in the mind of the beholder. Forming something with the mighty pencil requires an emotion or inspiration. For one, it's crooning music. Another, the rainy streets of Paris. For me, it's whatever moves me to use the pencil-the creator's beloved tool.

a dream in the city

Flashing lights, continuous movement, the clatter of construction. Buildings reach higher and higher, extending their arms up to the sky. The light brightens the skyscrapers' glass windows and makes you pity the one who cleans them. The rustle of shopping bags and the rudeness of city-goers constitute the sidewalks. But the feeling of being minute in this city of tall buildings and fancy stores stirs an aweness inside you. Passing by sale signs and smelling the wafts of delicious food brings a smile to your face. Climbing to the top of a hotel to take in the grand view of the world makes you reach for your camera. Hanging off the side of a cable car rolling down the precarious streets twirls the hair around your face. The distinct smell of crab and fish tickles your nose. As you drive away, over the historical bridge, you remember the dream-like feel of a city and its powers of persuasion.