Michael Daaboul. 25 y/o from Australia/Melbourne. Creative designer & writer.
Michael Daaboul. 25 y/o from Australia/Melbourne. Creative designer & writer.
Live to forget and read the last poem you will ever read and remember that on your deathbed, you will have a cosmic collision of your life.
A life that you will repeat and experience again. A cycle of space and time where you will see there’s no past and no future, you will be somewhere between the present repeating in an infinite number of times. Swirled upon moving ridges and being spat out to the same life, same universe and experiencing more of the same in a constant, invisible melody for eternity.
If to you gentlewoman, that death is the end, than the beginning has yet to occur.
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.
Just by the water, I sat on the bench looking over the horizon.
It was silent and the world seemed like it will never end.
The sky kept on going, looming away into the distance.
That’s how I remember that day, no matter how far I was able to see, it felt like there was no end.
Even though I felt my heartache, I looked over the horizon and something inside of me changed. It’s as if someone had said, "Everything will be alright."
When I came down from the hill, I felt the anxiousness creep up and the heartache … over the hill the sky kept moving forward, going further into the distance as I looked back for one more time, holding on to each breath.
For a moment there, I swear I heard the world say, "Everything will be alright."
Did you notice what’s in a number? Behind every closed door is a lock to a problem we have thrown away the keys for.
In searching for this key, we become powerless.
In 2010, 285 million people have type 2 diabetes worldwide.
More than 121 million people suffer from depression worldwide
64 million people have chronic obstructive pulmonary disease worldwide in 2004. By 2030, it is estimated to be the fourth leading cause of death worldwide due to an increase of people smoking. 3 million people died of COPD in 2005.
It’s estimated 57 million people die a year.
26.6 million people worldwide have Alzheimer’s disease in 2006.
10.8 million people are diagnosed with cancer per year and 6.7 million die from it.
8.8 million new cases of tuberculosis and 1.5 million deaths in 2010 worldwide.
7.6 million children under five years of age died in 2010 worldwide. That’s 21,000 children each day and 900 children every hour.
7.25 million people died of heart disease in 2008.
6.15 million people died from a stroke in 2008.
3.46 million people died of lower respiratory tract infection worldwide in 2008.
Multiple sclerosis affects 2.5 million people worldwide. In the United States, one person is diagnosed every hour.
Alcohol claims 2.5 million people each year.
1.78 million people died from HIV/AIDS in 2008. In 2010, 34 million people have AIDS worldwide.
1.39 million people died from lung cancer in 2008. 1.37 million people die every year from lung cancer.
Tobacco is a major cause of heart disease, lung disease and lung cancer. Tabacco is responsible for the death of one in 10 adults worldwide. Tobacco is a hidden statistic.
In 2008, 99% of children under five years of age who died were from low to middle income countries.
1.21 million people died from road traffic accidents in 2008.
Suicide takes the life of one million people every year and an estimated 20 million attempted suicides every year worldwide.
520,00 people were murdered in 2000 worldwide.
There’s 250,000 cases of rape reported annually that covers 65 countries.
It’s hard to notice when the window looking outside has a rainbow with no end. It’s hard to see the road back when the mist covers your tracks. There’s an empty seat here for you to notice that when the rain drops and hits the ground, to an ant, it’s a tidal wave of dreams never realised. And when the lighting hits on a rainy day, you will question that you thought the umbrella will save you from the fall. But you sing the chorus and you’ll wait for Christmas, but you know your family isn’t coming home. You put your dad’s old record of Elvis and listen to his sadness and by the time the song ends, you’ll see by all these numbers that you’re likely to be covered in darkness. In the night of despair, you wonder how your fear could be so heartless.
When did we become so helpless?
Fate is uncontrollable.
Don’t believe in fate, however, the concept expresses enough truth to warrant its place in existence.
Lying in bed with the lights off, hands behind your head and eyes wide open with the ceiling welcoming your attention. What goes through your mind? Is there a sense of appreciation in pondering life’s many enigmas? It’s your quiet time.
Insecurities become apparent as they have always been; never clouded. Not noticing them for a while as the feeling of knowing is enough for you to stop going.
Stop caring? You understand and you’re certain everyone else stares at their ceiling; with this assumption relief gently passes over your chest.
It’s not so different.
We often believe we’re walking away from problems, but we forget how our problems are holding our hands. Problems don’t believe in an end or a beginning, they have always existed in the dark. Questioning their origin, questioning like if a God exists. A delicate system made by rules associated with no logical answer.
Answers, that’s a thirst worth craving for, a lusting divine so elusive, oblivion will enclose our curiosity in due time. Best to wait for hope, but it’s not coming.
Human is what we are, a process, rules and principles governed by time and aging. Once this concept is understood entirely, a moment of obsolete is born.
The system whispers simulated emotions and feelings into your ear. It lingers while you understand not understanding this moment and for that moment to exist in something that didn’t exist.
If you’re overwhelmed with this emotion, your reaction speaks in actions. The tear’s breath chokes on its own moist; it’s that point where you cry and feel in the deepest part of your throat that something is embracing the loss. In that moment, it’s a matter of minutes before they have all gone.
It’s over, is it really over?
Bringing the camera back to you lying on your bed, powerless, you had it, it slipped, you knew it and you don’t know it.
All it takes is one blink of an eye and everything is gone, within a second is an eternity if you want it to last that long. There’s no reason, no explanation, it is what it is. The cycle continues with you lying on your bed with that tear falling and stopping, falling and stopping and eventually, suddenly, it moves swiftly past your cheek.
You realise, this experience will happen again in reality and in your dreams.
That’s the way it is. It’s not going to change, before you existed and in the darkness of your life, this is where you will be for the rest of your timeless existence.
Her tiny heart is beating, it’s barely breathing. It’s suffocating in blood; it’s feeling the weakness inside, like a flood that is drowning her.
The clock is ticking, she is fading pretty fast. The only person is Death by her lonely side.
She is running pretty fast, but she is falling behind. She is finishing last. The weakness is slowly killing her, her heart is barely breathing.
It came without a warning; it was just waiting to attack her heart. She found it hard to remember, that saying about the calm before the torture.
That night in December her name was picked from fate’s short hand and Death was gladly to be the only person by her side. Her heart is barely even beating, but Death is still waiting.
Death is always there, until she fades to the end, as her memories are on time, “Not a single friend to call mine”, she recalled.
Her heart closed its eyes; it blinked for the last time, that familiar irregular beat, that dear girl of mine.
Her life has gone and has taken what little she had left for a little ride.
Death had its way, she ran so fast to end up last. She was so tired; she kept on running … even in death she was still suffering.
That’s all she ever did in her life, because she didn’t want to die. She just ran and held hope by the hand.
Her heart was barely breathing, with her own blood suffocating her that stopped it from beating.