Daydreams

I woke up and decided that today I’ll skydive. I get there and there are some skydiver friends. I decide to be brave and just do it. The guys are really nice and supportive. I do some cool stuff up in the air and everyone, including myself, is impressed.

The next day I’m at Burning Man and I’m super fit and have the perfect weird clothes I’m suppose to parade around. Fashion is life. I walk around and I’m friends with all. There is peace and joy in my heart. 

The next day I decide I want to sing. I gather a group of people and I sing. A local radio station owner hears me and asks if I’d like to be on one of his shows; I gladly accept. 

I’m a painter and I start to put my work out there. My paintings get sold fairly easily and I am over the moon and cannot believe this is happening to me!

In my free time I enjoy taking photos. I go out with my semi professional camera and take mesmerizing pictures. Some of them make it into cool websites and people really love them; I do too. 

The next day I decide it’s time. I’m going to publish my book and it’s gonna help so many people that the word gets out and Ellen Degeneres finds out about it and invites me to her show. I’m psyched but mostly extremely happy to be making a difference through my art. 

I daydream these stories daily. I wish and I hope and reality still does not compare. I do paint, I do have a book, I do take photos with my semi professional camera and I do sing. But why can’t I put myself out there? I don’t know. 

Daydreams keep me alive and I long for the day when my daydreams and real life become one. I swear my heart is in the right place and I will continue to improve my energy so that I attract opportunities to shine and do what I was put here to do: art.

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Magical duo

This is a tribute to him and her. The ones that keep fighting The Civil Wars that seem timeless but sadly will come to an end. They have put a spell on me with their melodic voices. The tension between their souls is almost as palpable as their chemistry. Why do we fight? How can we let go of something magical just because we can’t coexist? Must we let go of the love of our lives just because it’s complicated? I do not know what is happening in between their lives but I am a witness to their bittersweet musical interpretation.

They’re on the tip of my tongue and I feel no one can replace their braided souls. Yes, it makes sense that it would be complex for them to be able to compose such beauty in paper.

They decided to name themselves in honor of the wars we fight constantly. What I didn’t expect was for the war to become bigger than the magic. If I’m ever as lucky as to find that piece of the puzzle, I won’t be able to let go of it; it simply fits too perfectly. The Civil Wars were built on the tension and the passion. They could draw from the source of all the opposites we feel when in love and out of love. Falling for them was as inevitable as a dreamer following a dream. The flowers bloom and so does the girl with the red balloon.

The secret little stories uttered into the wind in the form of notes have had an impact on my life. They might love and hate each other but all I feel for them is admiration and gratitude for the inspiration they have brought out in me. The little black dress and the bow tie complement each other so well that it probably clouded their vision of what mattered most. I do not know them but know of what they have done and that’s enough to crave them long time.

Maybe from where they’re standing there’s only poison and not enough wine. From where they are, they have caught amnesia and have forgotten how much they can’t do without each other. But so long as the magic keeps flowing through, I’ll keep listening and hoping. The volcano has erupted but what has come of it is an endless supply of unforgettable whispers sung deep into my veins.

This is a tribute not just to the artists but also to the source that they were able to so clearly tap. Whatever happens; beauty, chaos and art happened because of something bigger than the people themselves. So long as the instruments of inspiration keep flowing through, this world will make sense; it always will.