Foggy Sketch

Self-denial would hopefully solve undermining issue which appeared at some stage of my life.

Although the struggle I had to go through, certainly there are prioritized aspects in urgent need to be experienced. Youth might disappear in a blink of an eye without any warning or so ever – leaving debris of memories, labelled as a failure.

Continue reading “Foggy Sketch”



Northern breeze mussed my hair, clearance of thoughts, walking nowhere. Seeing the swarm going out at night, hunting the prey to stay, to survive.

Profound belief I wouldn’t succeed, an outcast who follows the margin of dreams – satisfied with deep, pure and true.

These traits are naive, like a curse were dragging me too.

Vibrant sound breaks the silence, weaver drops floss hoping the change, fooled himself destroying the work. Starting again his masterpiece, sacrifice his soul, his mind – being much different than the rest of the swarm.

Yet there is no use, there is no one.

Comprehend the lack of things I don’t have, it is not a matter of needs of a man – money or wealth – begone that all. Sole things that matters are these rooted in soul.

For this, the weaver is being punished. Luck forms the sand falling off hands. Sisyphean task seems neverending, as if there would be someone to help it.

Spontaneous life I crave to have, a group of people to fight the world – single letter I’ll ever make will be the one, begging the God for the enlightened mind.





Grain of the truth

If you’ll remind me at some stage of your life, craving the love you’ve never have found, beware the truth that you do know – it had the beginning, but the end was all yours.

Commit the crime of lying me, telling the story of the Disney dream. No more please, the time has gone. I’m the adult, not a ten-years boy.

Rolling excuses out of the sleeve, using me only when you felt like it – taking for granted you don’t need to say, I was ahead playing my game.

You failed the test given to you. Without even knowing what have you done, pretending and smiling.

Too late, madam.

Maybe there were some grains of the truth, you weren’t bothered telling me of these too. Worst than the worst who hurt you so bad – what would you do if I would pay it back?

I’ve never deserved to be broken down, not in the way you ruined my heart. Apologized in a manner I will not accept. Be gone, be lost.

Cut you off then.


Always wanted to listen to voices whispered in the windswept forest, toss the leaves and curl on the ground – as if the world has gifted me time.

Walking with a smile over the face, pointing the cloud that is miming you – the whim of joy shines, through you too.

Lazy Sunday once in a while, watching the telly when I’m cooking out. The recipe I found should be approved – doing with a heart, don’t make a move. The smell goes warm, full of spices. The mouth of yours just opens up.

I wouldn’t mind giving a kiss, whether the main dish should be the last?

Stormy days of greyish mood in cosy blankets spend. Reading a book or brew the tea – I know the favourite as well.

These are my notes, my dreams, my hope – written down out there. Diary burned out, throwing out pieces, throwing them in the air. The time won’t stop and so me too, I’ll write it back when the one appears – showing it’s worth to stargaze and dream.


Lonely traveller

Across the horizon is no place to be, no place to stay or a place to live.

Its mysterious glow lures me closer, mermaid far away invites me – although my mind could see just a shadow.

Lonely traveller has no fear, as nothing behind could ever get what he feels. Wondered at night yet struggled for days – thinking and rolling the battles, but failed.

Trash filled the bag and notes were all over. Reminding him of the reason for sober.

The escape plan was not ever made, a coward for me is the one who escapes – whilst picking a fight is a primitive habit, the one who success has to win what is coming.

Chances and options are waiting on hold, the faith-holding people are climbing the top. Following the rules would drive until a wall of which a follower would not strive to cross.

So draw your path by your own hands, believe in a force you yourself have – there are a people who would drag you down.

Displeased in a manner I could not express, smiled and walked away, for the sake of the mermaid.



Walked out of the ocean, from the deepest bottom where black coal stored. Covered in dirt washed off by the water, holy light enlightened the face – so the eyes shined once again.

Sand under unstable feet felt cold and fluffy, other footsteps – if there were any – being taken away, as if the bay deserted to welcome me.

The air inhaled filled the chest, the energy – still weak – grown out, fixes the wreck. Rise up your head, hand shanking of a fear clench to stop. Moving and moving. Little steps yet moving on.

Seagull sings, the drums of waves crash in the face of rocks. Impressive, magnificent. But it’s a time, a time to get back home.

The sheet of sand untouched so the way has to be made, by me, barefoot. What a pleasant feeling that should’ve been cold.

I will be back, the countdown of fate will draw me back, into the ocean, into the crash. The ship I’m the captain have┬áto be stopped. Then sink and lie on the bottom down there, taking the risk – this is how the discovery is being made.





Shaded room where spirals of smoke and smell of cigarettes mixed up, me as a painter painting – a brush in the colours convey my mind.

Canvas exposed bare naked thoughts, a line and buildings, trees and the sun – drawing the places where I’m getting back. Soon the touch of inspired demon passes out, leaving me empty, exhausted – full of wasted time.

Dyes are missing to finish up, to create a colour unknown for now. Remaining part requires strength of which I couldn’t ever gain.

Detached from a world on the outside of the room, looking out thinking if should refuse. Tear off my dreams and be the one – a part of a million who don’t know why.

Street signs, rush, always chasing.

Mask, parades, clap your hands.

These are truths we still refuses for the sake of our mind.

So the brush soaked yet again, smiling like old me back then – knowing my own flaws upfront standing – wonder who’s searching, love and passion craving.



Today I’m about to share something a bit new in here – my current source of motivation which reflects my feelings, thoughts and much more in its widest extent.

Within a couple of days I’ll write down a poem of the same name and theme, for now give this one a try.