Life As A Writer

Michael Daaboul. 26 y/o from Australia/Melbourne. Digital Designer & Creative Writer.

v354 cephei

Being adrift through space, wandering for eternity, and I have yet to come in contact with anyone else like me. We were really alone in this massive gulf. Such a pointless existence not to have shared galactic wonder with other species.

I lay dormant and thwarted.

Disappointed and frustrated with the silence. Locked inside a mammoth hole, this mammoth desolation. This act of desperation merely made a validation of the vulnerability of the human condition. Predisposed to triggers and forms of ravaging malice had often destroyed hope of finding a temporary solution to the pain.

In space I wander if I will discover freedom for the human race as they have now lost all hope for salvation and I have been travelling here, in empty wonder and loneliness for eons.

I have not recorded much in my log if I were to be found dead no one will know of the struggle our civilization had to endure. With the passing of asteroids and beautiful, dark planets, I can conclude that I will drift endlessly through a passing vacuum of time.

I can conclude, for certainty, no further discoveries had been made to aide our helpless attempts of longevity. As my coordinates are set for V354 Cephei, I will return to the stars a broken man, with broken aspirations in one final attempt to find an answer worth dying for.

You held my hands and you smiled at me. You found a piece of creased paper and wrote to me: You could save me and we’ll never say goodbye. You could be my hero and we could fly.
Excerpt from The Series of Human Emotions By Michael Daaboul
Death has no limitations; it just takes what it wants, when it wants. It’s not embarrassed that it might fail, it’s not fearful of anything; it has no expectations but one goal in mind. We don’t have to be any different towards that mindset.
Excerpt from Never Settle for Second Best! By Michael Daaboul

a cosmic byproduct

Life is emptiness that couldn’t be filled. Life doesn’t cause beauty, it is.

I understand life to never be limited; moments in time are defined by everything you believe in.

Life is the epitome of dreams, when thoughts arrive, you’re sent beyond any world the imagination could find.

In blindness, you will be in the midst of reality.

Life is not bound by fate, life is not considered to be or be a part of, and life’s meaning couldn’t be grasped or understood by words.

Perception is only masked by what your mind chooses to interpret.

An impression that lasts is only an appearance that you benefit from.

A shadow is merely a place where light has not entered yet.

You can’t see yourself, but only a mirror shows you who you are. You’re a reflection that’s not reflected anywhere else.

This is what life is, in a metaphoric and manufactured world, a cosmic byproduct, this unexpected consequence, which has to be lived to be believed.

Most people never really realise how close they were to success, because when they had failed, they stopped. Who would have known? They would have needed just one more step to succeed.
Excerpt from Never Settle for Second Best! By Michael Daaboul
It will not come on your first shot, it might not even come in several chances that you do get, and sometimes I would even imagine that the chance will never come.
Excerpt from Never Settle for Second Best! By Michael Daaboul

skyward

At anytime you have the freedom to walk away from any decision that’s unsettling you. Regardless of how immature you think it may be as it occurred to you a long time ago that you’re now aware of your mortality. You have realised that we are nothing more but biological creatures with a ticking end.

Relying on individuals has become a notion of the past and somebody and no one is the same person. This is adulthood, and now your journey is to find some meaning, something more than what is. Striking points of lighting that can jump start your emotions and thought process.

Contrasting the contrasting differences in your life and situation, when your back is against the painted walls and life is pressing against you, you tend to fall in love; you choose to fall in love. And nothing is more real than the fictitious characters and idealistic ideas that you have come to believe as finding the truth was not as desirable as you hoped and life became an existence of disappointment.

You twirl around looking skyward on a cloudy day, looking at the top of the world in madness, thinking that the mystery of life and this planet has something more to give. But it doesn’t give, it’s silent and you know your whole life can be spent attempting to interpret something that can’t be interpreted.

You suffered vertigo twirling for years and finally came to an awkward and depressing conclusion that with your hand placed firmly on the wall and life breaking away, that this is all there is. Nothing more, nothing less, this is it.

All the pain and struggle you have been through shaped you into the miserable monster you are now and continued to have epiphanies that with all the love and passion came the heartache of life.

You placed your thoughts on a table and rearranged them to fit your hypothesis. I have experienced the passion of love and the desire of belonging. The pain of desire, the struggle for passion and the broken heart of love only went hand in hand. As for the brightest and vivid memories of my existence and your existence it was a contrasting photo album of the dark.

For love to exist there needs to be two and for darkness to exist, it needs light. It’s never free, never tired, because one heart needs another to exist and if one rebels, it risks its life over dangerous convictions and forsaking lies if the truth was not realised.

But, you see, truth was realised, it was realised a long time ago and the present and the future is a madhouse of terrible tragedies. Are you mentality strong to know with each passing day your hope dies a little bit more and your insanity increases just a little bit more?

There’s nothing here, nothing at all. When you can’t go on life reveals its true self, it reveals true hopelessness of its emptiness.

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