Unreal

They say ghosts aren’t real.

It’s not them wandering around on the surface of earth.

Ghosts are monsters living within us.

Ghosts are preditors feeding on innocense.

Ghosts are us, facading to be something we are not.

 

The ghosts are the past we left behind, as we hold on to them, they crumble up to pull us back into the darkness.

They clutch us in the strength of their claws. 

While we live, we forget what is real and what is unreal. We give in to our inner ghosts, inner darkness and then hope for someone to rescue us.

Can we be saved from this unreal image that clutch us to our own nightmares?

If Your Life Was a Book, What Would You Call It?

All my life, I have read books that I found intriguing. I considered myself to be in those books, a character playing a part and not as just an audience. I have lived their lives, I have won battles and I have cried and felt joy along with them. These books have been a part of my life, a part that I have found rich and voluminous. But reading them was not enough.

I had to see if there was anyone who was me. A girl who saw the world just as I do, who sometimes danced when walking while no one watched, sometimes she talked so much she forgets where she had started. A girl who thought the world was unfair while she loved it at the same time, who held sparks in her eyes, enough to ablaze someone who looked too deep. I’ve searched through the books of Hardy, Shakespeare or Austen but never been able to find that one girl who resembled me. Perhaps, I am still to be written. I am yet to be described in those poetic gestures lovers use to describe their soul mate.

No, I am unwritten because I still have to choose what I would like to create for myself in any aspect of my life. It is so easy to get busy with everyday boring tasks, same old stuffs and slowly drift away from what your heart actually wants. What if tomorrow when you are sitting at a restaurant with your friends, watching Tom Hardy on that big screen TV getting comfy in his couch and they ask you “So, what have you been doing with your life?” and you realize you don’t have a story to tell. What if?

We all need a story of our life that we can tell people about. For that you need a pen and a paper. Well, lots of papers. I believe life isn’t about having a job and paying bills. Life is when you see yourself on the verge of making that dream come true. It’s about passion and courage – to reach the glory of success you have desired. If you don’t write that story yourself, no one else would. You are the author of your life and your life is the book you need to write. If you don’t have an idea what your story could be, just take a deep breath and let the story emerge slowly. Everything I do, I don’t have a certain intention or a conscious thought and most of the time I am stumbling upon things that I am doing. I am letting my own story emerge as it goes. But I don’t make it significant because if we did, it would become a pressure and we will lose hope from that.

So don’t see if your story is right, just see if you are taking it to where you want it to– that makes your heart sing. After all you are the author – you get to decide.

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– See more at: http://www.ourtimebd.com/beta/2016/03/15/if-your-life-was-a-book-what-would-you-call-it/#sthash.BHk1PfEp.dpuf

Brushing The Sorrows Aside

Brushing The Sorrows Aside

“Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time” – a very famous quote by Thomas Merton says all about art. I think art is not just a creative skill or imagination, but it is what comes from your soul. What you can make other people see, is what we call the language of art.

Starry Night by Van Gogh is one of the famous piece of arts. One quote by him, “the emotions are sometimes so strong that I work without knowing it. The strokes come like speech” says so many things about Van Gogh. He was not just an artist, he knew how to put his emotions into words with the strokes of his brush.

Van Gogh came from an upper middle-class family and had the potentials to change his life but everyone knows how he had suffered with mental health issues throughout his life. In winter 1888 after a fight with a friend and mutilation of his ear Van Gogh gave up himself to Saint-Paul-de-Mausole lunatic asylum. This was the place where he came to see the scenic beauties we now see in Starry Night.

While the painters in the mid-nineteenth century painted mostly photographic and realistic landscapes and portraits, Van Gogh used more exaggerated, distinctive brushstroke and thick application of paint that was not appreciated in his time but was obviously far ahead of their time and paved the way for Expressionism.

Critics of that time thought that Van Gogh’s signature style- characterized by bright and heavy brushstrokes, was unkempt, rude and childish. These critics had decided that Van Gogh was crazy and his paintings, that were not photographic and realistic, were not as good as the other contemporaries. However, the vivid style chosen by him was unusual and to portray this night scene he used lines instead of silhouettes that was a more obvious choice. Even he himself called it “exaggerated” and was aware it to be somewhat surreal and stylized.

One might say that The Starry Night is so popular because stars make you dream. The reason I like Starry night is because Van Gogh visualized in this painting how he felt inside and revealed his personal impressions. The struggling feelings of isolation, insanity and depreciation are clear in Starry Night. Although the real reason is not the negative emotions that initially inspired the artwork, but the bright lights of the stars that conveys the strong feeling of hope.

Starry Night gives me hope that I am not alone and Van Gogh teaches me to dream through his art. Van Gogh struggled to maintain his agony and depicted that in his paintings because he had dreams in his eyes and hopes in his heart.

Till the end, he hoped to be appreciated; he hoped to be somewhere he wanted to be. He makes me hope to become appreciated too, and to be different from all others because in this world, if you want to leave a mark, you have to be unique.

– See more at: http://www.ourtimebd.com/beta/2016/02/28/brushing-the-sorrows-aside/#sthash.fYuhsBKa.dpuf

Gossip Girl

Gossip Girl
A new rhythm taken by high enthusiasm,
It’s like a wingless learning to fly for the first time-
And a horizon meeting the sky limit.
It’s all somehow like the summer rain;
Washing away every sorrowful pain.
There is a feeling unknown within-
Could it be for bewitching tendency
Endeavoring mighty will into thin dust;
And stealing glances like a fool in love.
As fresh like a lullaby of spring breeze,
Floating half on water and half on plain;
Or may be burning potato for the third time.
It all comes down like a flow of cascade-
Like rainbow forming under the castle of clouds,
A sudden puff and all will be gone,
Like scattered snowflakes and freezing cold.
As numb and thrilling like kissing the frog.
The enchanting autumn leaving in its awake-
Giving a chance to meet house halfway.
May be there would be a glass sneaker
Or a handsome knight in a shiny armour.
I wouldn’t be surprised to be sang by the birds
To catch my own wedding to a prince charmer.
A babidi bibadi boo or a mirror on the wall
Or even the diagonal ally  couldn’t stop me-
From being where I truly am after.
I have even flew with Peter Parker
And know exactly where I go from here.
I wouldn’t need the golden compass to know.
I even traveled worlds on the Black Pearl;
And I secretly wished I could dream like Ariel
Or share honey with Winnie-the-Pooh.
I am unwritten, I am powerpuff girls
I’m like those pretty little liars from next door.
There couldn’t be any Edward Cullen for me-
Ed Sheeran could sing a thousand song!
I’m a rhythm divine, Winchesters couldn’t say it for me.
I’m love drunk, flowing like Tom Hiddleston
221B couldn’t get me off the street of Buckingham.
I was once what was a game of thrones,
The prison break got me to breaking dawn part 2.
May be life was actually a blue tick of twitter
From Ashton Martin to fast as a superman.
Or a verbain locket being found in a supermarket.
All I know is as Summer of 69 passes through-
I am a voice of those every other gossip girl.