Life As A Writer

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

I shall not feel the weight of every decision that should go against me. I can’t afford to be held down by choices that don’t go my way. I will not refuse progress if, progress means risking stability. If it means I leave what I help build, then it was worth it, to feel the consequences of their actions that will give those who I leave behind, a chance at a better tomorrow.
Michael Daaboul

Deep Impact

Tear me apart and say that you wanted me forever.

All the words that I could have said and all the moments that we spent together got washed away.

When it rains, I have no more reasons to be here and the light doesn’t want to find the darkness anymore.

My shadows are fighting to stay alive, but my scars are there for all to see.

All those memories that we had made, is all I can remember, when you said you wanted me to last forever.

I can’t see what you see, when you tore those words apart and all the secrets that fell like rain across my chest.

I kept on waiting standing in the middle of nowhere and forever, but your words left scars on me.

After all these years, they became the wounds that never healed, stuck in the middle of nowhere holding on to the thought of what you used to be.

Wait for Me

I didn’t know when I would arrive; I didn’t know what path I was going to take. But, I knew where I wanted to go and I could see a beautiful horizon from the summit.

Every path seemed dangerous, they all intertwined; some were broken. It really showed the delicate path and tenuous nature finding love could be.

I didn’t just sit on the summit and wait, I was looking for someone who understood what I wanted and reflected my values.

They would be on the same page as me and we could turn each page together. I liked that idea so much; I didn’t mind how many times I fell on rocks or how many cuts and bruises I would get.

It would all be worth it.


4 Years Later


When you spoke, you didn’t lie to me.

You didn’t go with the status quo, you waited for love, and you waited for me.

I held your waist and I spun you around while we danced during the night. I held your hand; we walked through the park and came out by the empty city streets.

With all of this, you cared at every part. Your eyes looked at me like they wanted to read every thought I had. Everything we did meant so much to you. Every detail, you cared about everything, you had qualities that I thought had been gone for a long time.

When I looked at you, I told you about the path I took. You replied with the same story.

It was only a matter of time before I could call you mine.

The Misunderstood Painter

Painter: There’s nothing wrong with me. I have trouble explaining things to people. I don’t really show who I am. I’m quite calm, but I assure you, I have a storm raging inside of me. I call it art. This is how I communicate to the world, this is my music, and this is what my feelings sound like. In coloured strokes, I can speak to you in ways which I couldn’t when I’m talking to you. And still, you won’t feel all of me, but it’s a start.
I have been in the sea and I have seen how dry the land can be. When the Moon is hanging in the night sky and the waves are gently caressing the shore, most people are asleep. I stay awake holding you while you weep, although these waves are not rough, they seem to understand your pain. They have seen how vulnerable we are, how vulnerable we can be.
Michael Daaboul
It’s not like me. If I had my time again I would do things differently with what I know now. I know I have disappointed you, I have frustrated you and I have failed you. Wherever you are in the world, I am sorry.
Michael Daaboul
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