dialasb-blog

[dialasb-blog]

Regarde le ciel qui pleure pour nous.

Le soleil embarrassé se cache.

On a pris l'amour et l'a vendu au premier souffle d'une fausse promesse.

Regarde les enfants innocents dans leur jeunesse.

Il y a un temps, on respirait le même air.

Des années écoulées et notre aventure terminée.

On retire nos vêtements tissés des rêves et plonge dans les toiles sombres de la vie.

Tu me regardes encore avec tes yeux d'hier mais moi, je fais ma fortune aujourd'hui.

[dialasb-blog]

3 blinks was all it took . . . . #author #writing #fiction #ink #stories #writer #words #writersofinstagram #wordporn #inspiration #writers #writerslife #creativewriting #creativemoments #art #work #lifestyle #post #storytelling #artist #fountainpen #igwriterscommunity #authorlife #prose

[dialasb-blog]

Her carefully polished life

She tosses and turns in her bed at night. Conversations and words replay in a loop. Sleep leaks from her eyes and leaves her wide awake. In the dark, alone, the thoughts crowd her mind. Underlying meanings come to light and self-doubt is given life. She tries to breathe but the air is thin, the beats of her heart grows louder still. Another toss another turn and she gets out of bed. The silence all around amplifies the voices, to drown them out she turns on a movie, or a series, she scrolls through her feed until her eyes grow heavy and she is lulled to sleep. This cycle every night she repeats and deeper in her anxiety she retreats. This girl is you and me, this girl looks happy and complete. With her brush, she carefully paints pretty pictures for the world to see. But Late at night reality seeps through the cracks of her polished lie.

[dialasb-blog]

Let me Forget I have

Drown me in mundane tasks, I do not want to dwell on philosophical theories, bury me under new shows that transport me away from my reality, make me forget that I am aware. Aware of the futility of our lives, the futility of our everyday tasks. Let me consume everything you have to offer and obsess over little nothings. Don't let me sit and think and remember. Let me escape the torment of my knowledge, let me slip back into bliss ignorance. 

But, when it's time to lay my head and rest, all I pushed back comes rushing in and I lie awake. 

Red rims around my eyes, words fail to express my utter despair. Why am I here? A thousand lies I tell myself, a thousand ways I distract myself, but there is no escaping my screaming conscious. Your existence is a game of probability, there is no meaning to who you are, there is no goal for what you do.

[dialasb-blog]

You can't break a strong spirit . . . . . #author #writing #fiction #ink #stories #writer #words #writersofinstagram #wordporn #inspiration #writers #writerslife #creativewriting #creativemoments #art #work #lifestyle #post #storytelling #artist #fountainpen #igwriterscommunity #authorlife #igwriters #innerstrength #life #quotes #spokenword #inspiration

[dialasb-blog]

Or just a figment of a someone's imagination? . . . . . #author #writing #fiction #ink #stories #writer #words #writersofinstagram #wordporn #inspiration #writers #writerslife #creativewriting #creativemoments #art #work #lifestyle #post #storytelling #artist #fountainpen #igwriterscommunity #authorlife #igwriters #foodforthought #existentialism #whoarewe #life

[dialasb-blog]

Immortalize my soul with the words I write. . . . . . . #playonquotes #quotes #quote #words #writer #spilledink #storytelling #artist #fountainpen #igwriterscommunity #authorlife #prose #instapoet #inspiration #writerscommunity #blackandwhite #author #writing

[dialasb-blog]

They eyes that watch you sleep . . . . . #author #writing #fiction #ink #stories #writer #words #writersofinstagram #wordporn #inspiration #writers #writerslife #creativewriting #creativemoments #art #work #lifestyle #post #storytelling #artist #fountainpen #igwriterscommunity #authorlife #prose

[dialasb-blog]

via weheartit

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[dialasb-blog]

Black

Don’t wear black. 

Her only wish. Wear all the colors under the sun but not black. I lived and loved, celebrate me. 

Remember me as I was, not as you see me now, withering away by the day.

Remember the tears of laughter. Hold on to the moments of joy. Remember I lived.

Don’t wear black, Don’t mourn me.

[dialasb-blog]

(by Kristina Manchenko)

[dialasb-blog]

The higher he rose the fainter the screams became. His big muscled gold wings spread out carrying him towards the clouds.Too long, it had been too long since he flew. His muscles ached and groaned with every movement. Breaking free from those chains took even him by surprise. The last shred of strength he had locked away, forgotten. His instincts took over, scanning the skies for danger, looking for a safe place to land. A faint blinking light caught his eye, angling his body he squinted at the source. It was too far away to make anything out. It beckoned him to it, without thinking twice he shot for it.

[dialasb-blog]

Untitled by Manny Estrada

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Here’s to you!

With love,

The Myriad

[dialasb-blog]

To Live

When the days all blend into a blur of moments and you cant really tell what was yesterday or what was 4 days past. Your grip on reality loosens and your body is on auto pilot. Sleep, Eat, work, Repeat.

When the memories fade, and you realize something that felt like just  last month became a year ago. 

You become aware. Aware of the time flying by. The promise of always a tomorrow is fleeting. Minutes, hours, days, weeks, years, all flying by. Suddenly you panic. There isn’t enough hours in a day to do everything you put off till tomorrow. Your tomorrows are numbered.

In making plans and lists and projects you forgot to follow them. You wrote a bucket list. It now lies forgotten in the bottom of the drawer as you continued on sleeping, eating, working.

Was this how you wanted to spend your spec of time in this world. Stuck in the turning wheels of responsibilities? 

Don’t forget to live. Ah but to live, to dream and to follow those dreams, you need to make a living. And you are back at the beginning of the cycle. Trapped by a man made concept of wealth and power, unable to break free.

But have you really tried?

[dialasb-blog]

Her muse.

The moonlight peaking through the curtains illuminated his face. So peaceful in his sleep, the curve of his mouth relaxed after the long tense days that kept him so on edge. Macy sat watching the rise and fall of his chest, her eyes traced their way up to his face. A small smile played on her lips. Watching him rest, it hit her. He filled her with so much passion that she longed to create. She understood, in the single moment, that her art, usually born from great suffering, can be born from great love. She felt their love, it was tangible and she could mold it into art. In one moment of epiphany, he became her muse.