Life As A Writer

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

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Breakfast Under Stars

When you leave, I won’t let you go so fast. I will stop you, turn you around and look into your eyes. I’ll smile and kiss your lips. I’ll ask you not to go; while knowing that’s not possible. But I say it anyway.

I’ll hold your hand when we walk because I like to feel your skin on mine.

I sometimes get teary because I can’t believe I found someone like you, when you ask why I’m crying, I try to hide it and respond by telling you I was just yawning.

I get excited when we have breakfast together, and I don’t know why, maybe because it’s two of my favourite things.

Until One Day, It Hits

I don’t need to tell you this, but never be with a bad man.

Never give yourself away like you’re nothing.

I won’t need to remind you, but when the time comes, your heart will. Your emotions shouldn’t be ignored because they will yearn for what you need even when you have forgotten what you truly desire.

Never forget what you want, because when you do there will be no one there to tell you what you would have already come to know.

When you look at yourself in the mirror, it’s not about respecting who you are anymore, it’s not about anything you have ever come to know. It’s all about when you look deep into your eyes reflection and realise you were doing it all wrong.

Until one day, it hits you; your emotions have been so betrayed by you that you didn’t listen for one moment and when you feel like you did, it was too late.

I’m here to tell you … it’s never too late.

10,000 Ways to Fall

Will you always expect me to love you, even when I find it hard to love myself sometimes?

Do you expect me to be good to you, when I’m bad to myself?

Do you expect me to be kind to you, when I’m angry at myself?

When I’m looking off into your distant horizon, I’m not being cold; my thoughts are not on standby. Sometimes I’m hard to understand because I don’t understand why I deserved you when I think you deserved so much more, so much better than me.

I relentlessly question the greater power as to why they have cursed me with such a beautiful soul. What have I done that made me worthy?

Is this the plan? To make me fall so deep, make me cling my hopes and dreams to them and watch them unhook my anchor as I’m falling 10,000 feet in the air?

Do you want me to feel betrayal and the pointy shards of my broken heart, this dry and overworn artefact? Do I need to be broken again to learn what I failed to learn the first time around?

Do I fear failing so much that I won’t bother to try? I won’t bother to see how beautiful you smile when the Sun is shining behind you.

It’s all a state of mind.

What makes me not worthy than the next person? I want to share my hopes and dreams with a beautiful soul; I want to belong with someone.

I mean no disrespect to the stars, but you have seen me weak and you have seen the way I weep. You have seen when I’m not a man and you have seen how quick I crumble like sand.

Please don’t take her away from me, even if I’m not worthy.

Another Time, Another Place

This all feels overwhelming.

I look at the time and it feels like there’s not enough of it, and when I’m waiting for something, there’s too much.

I can sleep and wake up as a new person, different from yesterday. I can feel different, change the way I was thinking before, and look different, as if time is moulding me as it pleases. Having its way, harassing me and I am powerless to do anything about it but look at my reflection and ponder.

It hasn’t been long, but I feel like I’m already a different person than I was a year ago.

The conversations that I had with you, I’m not so sure if what I said fits with the person that I have become today.

All the words I said live in another time, another place that had a different meaning and feeling to what I feel right now. In the future, they will take on a different meaning to the person that I would eventually become.

Even though I smile when I look at you, I’m decaying inside. You can’t see the destruction within me, you can’t read what I’m really thinking, but I will smile anyway so you don’t have to worry.

You can do what you like and exclude me; I won’t get in your way. When you say you will do anything for me, do you understand the weight, the meaning these words carry?

Even if you don’t, like time it doesn’t bother with the details, but only concentrates on passing through; I will smile anyway.

Generation Y

We’re a sad horse; we are disappointed with the world because our expectations are not in view with reality. No, we’re not lazy, but expect a lot. We’re ambitious, flowery and want fulfilment and meaningful relationships.

We’re green with envy of everyone else, some think their grass is always green, when we look over the fence, it’s a marvellous wonderland. Have you seen what’s in the shed? Everyone is just like you. They’re not sure what they’re doing, clinging to whatever hope they can muster, floating in the dark, can’t decide on what they want, always frustrated and annoyed at everything. No self-confidence or overly confident and miserable at the world.

Concentrate on the most important part; yourself. Stop looking over the fence, don’t look for distractions. Work towards YOU and don’t worry about everyone else.

What Missing You Sounds Like

I’m sorry that I didn’t do enough.

I want you to know that each day hurts without you.

I feel you’re fading away from my mind, but not from my heart. My heart won’t let you go and it holds on to you with claws anchored in as if losing you will cut open a wound so large it would flutter an abnormal rhythm from every chamber. All the contractions will be in shock, the lower chambers will hum the Valley of Death and the music to my ears, and how your smile looks to my eyes will all be out of sync.

I hope that you will come back to me and we can start again.

But you are gone.

You are gone.

Cut open and flutter abnormally a rhythm and dance with me in the lower chambers, and you walked with me holding my hands in the Valley of Death and left me all out of sync.

The Day I Decided to be Broken

Why did I stay?

I have never seen a mind quite like this one. I couldn’t sense her; I couldn’t feel what she was, or what she was feeling. I couldn’t read her.

Naturally, I wanted to know more. I was instantly pulled towards her, she fascinated me. She baffled my understanding, my logic, everything I knew, when I looked at her, I felt like I knew nothing.

I had this howling desire to be with her. And I did just that, I hurled my entire existence in her direction, every part of me. It was an obsession, it was freedom, all strangely intertwining together, kissing and being stubborn all at the same time.

Nothing about me or her, or our unbending minds could change it, both strong and weak, soaking up every moment.

All I did was let my emotional universe become consumed, I let it become, in its entirely, completely consumed. My mind had an equal, every thought expanded to the point I had no more understanding of what was happening.

This whole situation was awfully blemished, but she was there, larger than the planet itself, looking straight at me; this one person, precarious and so fragile.

I knew from the beginning that she would destroy me and for a fleeting moment that seemed to last a lifetime, it didn’t bother me. Every emotional tug-of-war and every crack that surfaced, I didn’t mind. My mind was feeding from the calamity from her lips and my whole existence was one with her.

Why did I stay? I stayed because I wanted to be broken, I wanted to be destroyed in such a way that I didn’t recognise who I was anymore. I was terminal, emotionally exhausted and weak. There was nothing left of me which was the perfect opportunity to evolve into something much more. How well did I know myself? How could I become someone else in a state of crisis?

I thought I knew who I was, but, I knew nothing at all.

What Nostalgia Sounds Like

I used to write to you all of this cute stuff that only you would understand. I would put a goofy emoticon at the end, because I would be smiling; and I know you would have a goofy smile on your face reading my silly stuff.

I will then ask you how your day is going. If you slept okay last night? Talk to you about all the small details. I will read with such curiosity, my eyes would anxiously wait for every detailed letter from your fingertips. I won’t reply back straight away, but you’re as bad as me, and we both can’t wait more than a few minutes before breaking and reply back at the exact same time!

I will tell you that I need to get you a gift because your birthday is soon and you try to guess what kind of gift I will get you. You know I’m not going to tell you, but it’s your cute way of dropping small hints. Then I will tell you I can’t believe it’s almost DECEMBER, and we’ll both lay down and wonder where has the time gone? Then we’ll talk about our little adventures putting up the Christmas tree and you will tell me about your special arrangements with all the decorations.

After all of that nonsense, I will quietly tell you how beautiful you are and you will be silent for a few seconds as if you heard the most amazing melodic lyric you have ever heard and you can’t reply but faint just a little inside.

What Love Sounds Like

You have always looked so amazing, if there ever comes a day where I don’t love you anymore, I want you to know that everything I said wouldn’t have been a lie.

It was real once upon a time.

I know it’s sad, we won’t be how we used to be. I will miss how we used to be, just like the first time that I saw you. We will remember how we laughed nervously and when our laughing fit has subsided, you would look at me, like really look at me and without saying a single word, your heart will sync to the beat of mine.

I can’t really remember, but I think you will hold me tight and you won’t let me go, always and forever you would say, and I will always love you, but forever is not such a long time when you say it.

You know, there’s not much point to your love when you have disappeared from my life. What exactly are you loving? The memory of me? The history?

Life is not about who you have had, the history, it’s about your ongoing experiences, who you will spend eternity with. Your distant love is a word. Your sentence, your text messages, your feelings are in the moment.

What does your love sound like next year?

If there ever comes a day when the routine becomes a loud echo, you will become boring and annoying. When you become nasty and a miserable wrecking ball, you will compare yourself to your friends. When the whole world is moving forward and you’re standing still, you will start questioning the relationship you’re in. If you’re not growing and your mind is a wretched mess, you will run away.

Your love is weak like me. You’re fragile like me.

Who are you looking for when love sounds like me?


They told me to fight for what you want; you know, grab it with both hands and don’t let it go.

I was inspired. It lifted my self-confidence and self-worth. Made me believe, I should fight for everything.

Trying to absorb everything that life is and what it’s about, trying to learn how to present myself and subconsciously placing mines in the back of my mind about what a particular person thought about me.

Am I good enough? Can I make a mistake? What if I make a mistake? What if, what if, what if, what if.

I was always concerned about what other people thought. Did I have to set a standard, do I care what the person in the white shirt thought?

Why did I care? Why do I try to be someone that I’m not? Am I trying to be a better me?

All these questions, no one hands you a manual about anything. I learn best when I make mistakes, but why? Am I too stubborn to see otherwise? That I need to inflict enough pain, cause enough damage for life to uppercut my understanding in such a way that I bleed enough to stop and learn.

I need to lose. I need to feel loss. I need to fear. I need to understand if I’m too scared to do what stops me from my dreams, I’m missing out on achieving. My lack of confidence is destroying me.

They say you should aim for the stars, and don’t aim so low. They seldom talk about the in-between; the pain and understanding to enable you to aim so high.

I’m not taught to fight, I’m not taught to grab anything with both hands, and I’m expected to do it.

I’m expected to.

If you’re not going to help yourself, if you’re not improving, no one will do it for you and you will find something in-between.

It might not be what you want.

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