WHAT FRUSTRATION COULD DO TO OUR DREAMS
datubagane
Sometimes we just stay in our room and feed our fantasy. We don't know until it fattens our boredom and frustrations. We keep ourselves with our chances hidden inside the blanket of our fears and our pillow is the only shoulder we can cry on. It is difficult for the moonlight to creep in through our window and no stars could ever see our sad face. In the morning we wake up with our eyes in bulged circles. We feel our body so weak and dissatisfied. We wash the tantrums on our face and we remember our nightmares as we take breakfast. Everything temporarily passes with relieve of our daily chores. We run here and there holding our errands and leaving our sad soul a step behind. Until the sun sets the day out, we find ourselves exhausted in the chair of our loneliness. The night greets us and the sad soul comes in again. It brings more frustrations and boredom, a heavy load for our chair and a darker tone for our night. It closes our window, the more lock now. We wish for a cold wind to break the window pane, to slash the dark in our room and let the moonlight creep in. We wish to ride on our pillow and cloak ourselves with our blanket away from the sad soul. The window will open us to the outside of ourselves where the stars await us. We wish to go out and fly above the shadows where the moon guides us. It is better to dream not one but many as the number of stars in the sky than to be frustrated once and dream no more.
Starry Night by Vincent van Gogh
datubagane
Sometimes we just stay in our room and feed our fantasy. We don't know until it fattens our boredom and frustrations. We keep ourselves with our chances hidden inside the blanket of our fears and our pillow is the only shoulder we can cry on. It is difficult for the moonlight to creep in through our window and no stars could ever see our sad face. In the morning we wake up with our eyes in bulged circles. We feel our body so weak and dissatisfied. We wash the tantrums on our face and we remember our nightmares as we take breakfast. Everything temporarily passes with relieve of our daily chores. We run here and there holding our errands and leaving our sad soul a step behind. Until the sun sets the day out, we find ourselves exhausted in the chair of our loneliness. The night greets us and the sad soul comes in again. It brings more frustrations and boredom, a heavy load for our chair and a darker tone for our night. It closes our window, the more lock now. We wish for a cold wind to break the window pane, to slash the dark in our room and let the moonlight creep in. We wish to ride on our pillow and cloak ourselves with our blanket away from the sad soul. The window will open us to the outside of ourselves where the stars await us. We wish to go out and fly above the shadows where the moon guides us. It is better to dream not one but many as the number of stars in the sky than to be frustrated once and dream no more.
Starry Night by Vincent van Gogh
KID
datubagane
I was walking on pavement with the comfort my shoes gave to my feet. I valued the song of that morning which was tranquil yet gay, and few sound of my morning friends choired it. I called them friends because they were yet happy and fresh to greet their mornings, and I liked them though they didn't see me, maybe because I wore fancy clothes. Actually, it was my singing that gave songs to their mornings and that was my morning greeting to them, and I liked it, though they didn't hear me, maybe because my voice was so satisfying to their ears. Most of them went inside McDonald's, maybe they were thinking of what they were going to have for breakfast. I liked them, so I followed them as I also thought of what I'm going to have for breakfast! They were welcomed by the guard and greeted by the crews but not me; maybe because I was just a kid, I am so kind to them. Though they didn't notice me, I liked them and the guard, and the crews. Then, I was surprised about what I saw inside and felt very hungry as I smelled the air. But when I looked back, I saw Myself outside that was looking at my friends who were having their breakfast. Myself's face was flat on the glass begging my friends to let him in and his hands was asking for food. I shamed for Myself so I went out to reprimand him not to do that. But my coming to Myself made my singing fade out, my fancy clothes worn to shreds, my shoes left my feet, and the glass separated me from my friends. Then I thought to Myself, how am I going to have breakfast now?
Photo by Manila Luglio 2002, due bambini giocano per le strade del quartiere Ermita - (c) Contrasto
datubagane
I was walking on pavement with the comfort my shoes gave to my feet. I valued the song of that morning which was tranquil yet gay, and few sound of my morning friends choired it. I called them friends because they were yet happy and fresh to greet their mornings, and I liked them though they didn't see me, maybe because I wore fancy clothes. Actually, it was my singing that gave songs to their mornings and that was my morning greeting to them, and I liked it, though they didn't hear me, maybe because my voice was so satisfying to their ears. Most of them went inside McDonald's, maybe they were thinking of what they were going to have for breakfast. I liked them, so I followed them as I also thought of what I'm going to have for breakfast! They were welcomed by the guard and greeted by the crews but not me; maybe because I was just a kid, I am so kind to them. Though they didn't notice me, I liked them and the guard, and the crews. Then, I was surprised about what I saw inside and felt very hungry as I smelled the air. But when I looked back, I saw Myself outside that was looking at my friends who were having their breakfast. Myself's face was flat on the glass begging my friends to let him in and his hands was asking for food. I shamed for Myself so I went out to reprimand him not to do that. But my coming to Myself made my singing fade out, my fancy clothes worn to shreds, my shoes left my feet, and the glass separated me from my friends. Then I thought to Myself, how am I going to have breakfast now?
Photo by Manila Luglio 2002, due bambini giocano per le strade del quartiere Ermita - (c) Contrasto
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