we are all dreamers.

fugitives of reality.

[druime]

the sheer irony of human nature.

[druime]

[druime]

stranger

how i love to be understood by a stranger not because of our language for we do not speak the same but because of the way we take time to bask in moments even if it may mean that the air between us is silent

[druime]

[druime]

it’s been a harrowing week. six days ago, the nation awoke to grave news… its heart sinking with heaviness. today, the nation wept like it never did. tears of grief filled the floors. and tears from the skies cascaded onto the people, as if to mourn… and to grieve in solidarity, one last time. impermanent was his death, as was his life. but here to stay, forever is his legacy that is now Singapore.

[druime]

[druime]

we are architects of our own shells, each piece perfectly tessellated, shaping the familiar face we see in the mirror, concealing the flaws that now hide beneath it. we recede into our shells, bereft of identity, anchored to conformity. but only when time exhausts us, will the facade rupture, and the fragments begin to cascade. and it is only then, we stand emancipated from all pretence, stripped to our imperfections… yet free from the delusions. after all, we are but only human.

[druime]

stepping foot into the houses one last time, hit by the awful remembrance of the families' departures. what would have otherwise been humble abodes, were now emptiness consumed in silence as their effigies begin to fade away, gradually revealing nothing but the empty walls that now surround me.

ain't it weird, knowing the things we miss the most are the things that were never ours to begin with?

[druime]

"sifting through a graveyard of half finished ideas, thoughts picked up by an indiscriminate wind, fading photographs that conjure the memory of what something might have been... there is a kind of mourning in growth, in putting unborn thoughts to rest"

[druime]

many, when greeted by failures, have the propensity to crumble and reduce to mere empty shells, devoid and drained of the pursuits they once dreamt about. but rather than asking “what now?”, why don’t we ask ourselves “what next?”… because what remains of us, paves the road to our next chapter in life.

[druime]

the walk.

i don’t think i’ve quite enjoyed such a walk back home in a long while. the poignancy of Peter Carnesciali’s Dreaming With a Broken Heart in my ears, juxtaposed against the neighbourhood’s peacefulness. and the subtle little nuances that littered the entire walk. perhaps the inevitable imminence of being caught in a maelstrom of life as a working adult compelled me to appreciate it one last time.

i guess it’s true huh, that we only begin to comprehend the value of even the most simplest of things after they dissipate from our grasps.

[druime]

i swear it's labels like this that murder my wallet.

cake? who says no to cake?!

[druime]

it’s amazing how watching this wedding video for the n-th time still brings a tear or two. those first ten seconds of Lake Tahoe's picturesque grandeur. and with Ray LaMontagne’s Within You serenading in the background?

nothing short of awesome.

[druime]

i find absolute peace in writing.

throw in a good song and I find solace.

[casualllykillingit-deactivated2]

[dermander]

[incoherentchatter]