Life As A Writer

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



Through my darkness memories I remembered your name. When that perfect summer’s day reflected your smile and innocent joy, I felt your heart fluttering inside of me like a flame.

When the bright lights burned your skin and the thick smoke filled your lungs, my flame was quick to go cold.

When I remembered the first time I saw your tiny eyes and baby fingertips; I have forgotten how warm it felt when you were in my arms.

My world was built upon your foundations; you were my Sun that I orbited around. You kept me stable and on course in my universe and now, you’re gone.

When I walk with you in my dreams, it’s a cold place. There’s no light; there’s no solace.

I wake up every day in constant agony, realising this has become my reality. Through my tragedy, you only exist in my fantasy and I wish gravity would lift me up and throw me away where I might find you again inside another galaxy.

Nothing in life is certain; does that mean I’m going to live the rest of my life in fear? I know death is a certainty, does that mean I live in fear as well? The idea is to enjoy your time here; it’s not much of a good time, if I fear the unknown for the rest of my life.
Michael Daaboul
64 million people had 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.
Excerpt from Powerless By Michael Daaboul

Hello Darkness (Tribute to Robin Williams Special)

In this moment of darkness, I will not see the terror that’s unfolding around me. I have learned to close my eyes and curl into a ball. I hold myself tightly in the corner and I cry because I can’t take this anymore.

You can’t see me because I have turned off the lights. No one will be able to tell if I’m sick because I smile when they ask if I’m alright.

Where have I been? Where do I go? You may ask. I haven’t journeyed far from my room; I haven’t seen the world from the peak of Hanging Rock. I have been sitting in my room waiting for the light, a light that never came.

I know if I don’t speak, if I don’t seek help, no one will suspect a thing, and it will be my friend darkness and me, sitting in the corner where the cold air leaks and my maddening thoughts speak.

For when the morning comes, you will lose your best friend; you will lose someone you hold so deep. You will see me lying in the corner with a heavy heart and when you feel my unrhythmic pulse, you will be heartbroken. Everyone else that loves me will lose their hope, their will to live and I, will remain unspoken.

For all the joy and kindness I gave, I didn’t receive any for when I went the other way. When I sort out those who needed help and got them to pray, I made a deal with the Devil and sold my sanity on a midsummer’s day.

Tribute to Robin Williams who died on August 11, 2014.
- Michael Daaboul
In paradise they hear us sing, about the horror stories on Earth during the wars they bring. We tried to stay strong and fearless, but the haunting artillery was no match for our voices. They forced us in hibernation and we became weak and scared. We gave in, we needed food and water. They stripped us of our defences and tore our clothes off. There was no other way of knowing, in this paradise, that they would have their way with us when they were staring right into our eyes.
Michael Daaboul
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