Chasing dreams – A poem

Maybe our dreams are more voices in our heads than we think.
Louder than we hear,
Until we choose to listen.

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Adventures with a new camera

I bought a new camera and these are photos from the first couple of adventures I’ve had with it 🙂

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The Happy Brain

I recently read a book called ‘The Happy Brain’ by Dean Burnett, which discusses the science behind what happiness is and where it comes from in the brain. It was slightly overwhelming with all the science talk but also very interesting, and I got a lot out of it. So here are my top 20 things I learned from the book, that only skims the surface of what makes the brain happy.

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I exist on this earth to be a part of it so why keep things to myself?

I think we learn to exist inside of ourselves. We grow to feel trapped inside our minds. Habits and emotions and thoughts. They haunt our every move, our every step. It’s normal and human to feel an entire spectrum of emotions from the happiest happiness to the saddest sadness. It’s normal to feel it all.…

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The depths of tomorrow – A poem

You give me memorable moments
In unmemorable days.
My yesterdays described by conversations,
The sound of you saying my name,
And times I thought of you
When listening to the rain.

With you, I can be everything I am
And you show me everything you are.
The depths of you and the depths of me
Are almost parallel to the depths
Of tomorrow…
Utterly and entirely
Infinite.

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The curious way time runs away – A poem

I think I worry about time too much.
Living alongside the rhythmic and repetitious strides
Of the backdrop of humanity
Seems to fill my head with it.
With time.
The nonstop tick-tock is locked into my footsteps
Into the beats per minute of my heart
Blinking numbers or the hypnotic swirl
Of hands that spin too fast in the corner of my eye
But not at all when staring them in the face.
Maybe I worry about time too much because
I’m aware of being trapped in it
But I can’t see it to get out.

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Silence

Silence is more than quiet. Quiet is the sweeping hush of the stars pressing fingers to their lips so the world stops thinking. But silence steals even the most subtle of sounds and fills the air with everything else.

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The perils of a mind’s imitations of life – A poem

I have not yet learned to notice
How time jumps
Or how the clocks don’t tick

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Remains – A poem

When I disintegrate into space
What will be left
Is the remains of you
And all the people that made me.

My scattered ashes
Will be seeds
For not just the flower of me
But a garden.

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