Life As A Writer

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

creative writing

the missing piece

What disappointment we have here once we have found what we have been looking for. We found this magic and from then dawned upon us new hope.

This beautiful illusion, a smile caught under the tide of the sunset.

From that moment, no words needed to be exchanged. This was communication at its finest.

I stood there, hiding the old, rusty, red car, as if I was ashamed that you would care if it was not shiny, but you didn’t. Silent street and no one there. As I knew, it was my perfect moment, no one there to ruin my moment. Then you came out, like magic, right in front of my eyes. There you were, smiling. My purpose born. You are my purpose. No doubts. No prolonged time needed. No language spoken. Why, this could of happened to anyone, this so called love. It didn’t though, it happened between you and I. That moment, was ours. That was ours.

Well, that all seemed so long ago. Everything seemed so long ago. What remains? Just the ghosting of what had been. When I look across the room and see you smile, your beautiful face, it fades soon after. The fading moments and the echoes that once was. This, aching sadness.

What happened to my purpose? Well, you see, before then I had never understood why I was here. Why I had been born in a world where magic was illusionary. Then after all that, behind some lurking ignorance, you where hiding. Once I was made aware of your beating heart, magic my dear girl, was no illusion. That was long ago and time hasn’t been so kind. What happened to my purpose? Well, since you have been gone, I have had no direction. This life has been lacking any clear direction, any meaning. All of this, nothing but an after thought. When I saw you, I held you and looked at your very eyes while you were smiling, it filled me with purpose; magic. It was another place in another time. You now, are not the same person many days ago, you’re entirely someone else. Without you here, there’s no more purpose.

With no purpose, I am not here nor there. I have put my current state in auto pilot, while the real me has found refuge in my memories on that faithful day of when I met you, forever as long as I live.

As in that moment my dear reader, I have never been so close to perfection as I had been standing next to her wonderful and bright lit soul. For just that moment I undoubtedly knew, with all my confidence what it was like to find the missing piece that made me whole and that my dear, was with you.

shining armour

Remember me as a writer, a lover, the mighty knight in shining armour.

Forget sin I created, it was infectious.

Marriages ended from the tip of my sword, the tip of insanity. My shield gave shelter from the fallout; I’m the messenger of God, living inside hell, made for an ancient poet.

It’s how we dress, amazing self-esteem, amazing self-proclaimed poetry and soaring thoughts arrive where words are born.

We stand, we continue to do the things that we do. We create buildings tall, make bridges reach their destination and leave problems hanging in pits of isolation.

I am an architect of words that can create and destroy without having to take back the imperfection of a draft, the flaws of a perfect story gave us confidence to look up at the stars today.

I can take it all away, with the swing of the brush, start again with new canvases, a new beginning for a fairytale. I can erase the pain and history with someone new.

This time, no failure.

This time, I promise to fall in love… with love, and she would say, “My knight in shining armour….”

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.

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.


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.

all for nothing (an epic poem)

My teacher wouldn’t give me my pen licence
Because my writing was too messy
All the kids got theirs
And I got mine last
The other kids wrote in blue
While I wrote in grey
I didn’t understand
The teacher was never happy with my work
When I went home
I took the piece of paper I wrote
And stuck it on my door
My sister thought my handwriting was nice
My father smiled
I had a white kitten
His name was Snowy
I knew no girls
They didn’t like me
I didn’t know why I liked girls
And my Mum would give me a kiss before I went to bed at night
And I thought the next day will be okay

My English teacher thought I copied my assignment from the internet
Because my writing was so good
He gave all the kids an A+
But didn’t question their work
But he questioned mine
Because it was strange to see me so bright
I went home
I took my assignment and put it in the bin
My sister didn’t look at my work anymore
My father stopped smiling
My cat got hit by a car
I still didn’t know any girls
They didn’t like me
My Mum would not be home at night
And I had trouble sleeping
I left the lights on

My lecturer thought I was a brilliant student
I created work that no one believed
But my lecturer didn’t know me
He had no bias when he looked at my work
He saw something new from someone with ability
No one saw that I had ability
They thought I was slow and stupid
An idiot
He gave me a high distinction
When I went home
I hid my work in a folder
On the highest shelf in my room
My sister got married and moved out
My father died
I stopped liking cats
I had a girlfriend but she didn’t like me
I felt dead she never kissed me
My Mum was never home
I was alone
All I did was write
And at 5 AM I tried to go to bed
But the pain kept me up all night

When I finished my education
I realised that I had learned nothing
I went into the real world
Afraid with no one to talk about anything
I couldn’t find a job
I didn’t know many people
I still didn’t know any girls
I was still heartbroken
And now I know nothing
I continued to write in my room
I wrote something that I thought would change the world
And I gave myself a high distinction
I worked out how to ease the pain with a blade
I was frozen
I put the piece of writing on my chest
As I slowly fell asleep I felt at ease
For the first time in my life
I was at peace

upside down maps

I’m holding a map upside down
Going backwards without knowing
I’m heading back into the same town
I can’t see where you’d be
Coffee marks on places you like are blurry
My mind falls into deep rivers

The noise is overwhelming
All bright lights are blinding
Your smile is amazing
All these miles away
I pray that someday
I’ll be wrapped around in your arms

So many places left untravelled
I hold your memories as fuel for hope
All the distances that’s left battled
Before I hit the ground I hold on to a thin rope
And I swing from left to right
My time is ending in silence
I’m not sure if this is right

Exhausted and defeated
We touched our hearts
Closing our eyes as were fading
Dreaming of a close place
The last time I was with you
Wrapped in your arms
As I swing weeping with my eyes closed
From left to right

I fall on the cold ground
Exhausted and defeated
Going backwards without knowing
The distance between you and me
I pray that someday
Your voice will break my silence
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