The girl who wore butterflies.

I wrote this for my Australian sister ;) whose beautiful and had a birthday yesterday. Jinti, I hope your dreams change the world. We all know the world could use a good painting over.

Love,
Your favorite hippy

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I'm not sure where the girl sleeps.
But I know that she dreams.
And what it is she sees, is much more than it seems.

Visions of grandeur, places of past, people of presence, and monsters without mask.

Nothing to run from, everything free. A different life behind the darkness, where you can just be.

Intense is the sight, of a dreamer in flight.
Nothing but eyelid, no cornea of white.

For a few hours in each of our days, she sees the world below her in the most extraordinary way.
Physically here, mentally there.
She stays in her sleep coma, with little despair.

You see the girl who wears butterflies, Isn't destined to sit.
She dreams what she dreams, because it's just basic things we've all missed.

Nothing extra ordinary or special in her dreams, just realizations of what's supposed to be.

Intense is the sight, of a dreamer in flight. She is who she was, and is who she will be, for but a brief moment in our eternity.

So she sleeps more than most, because she dreams most of all. And she dances in between just to recall visions of grandeur, places of past, people of presence, and monsters without mask.

And she colors the world by day, and creates it by night. Because life is just better.... When your always in flight.

The girl who wore butterflies.

Unaware.

I watch people everyday walking by, riding by. Looking so uncomfortable and unsure in their own skin. They are so aware of their presence and their surroundings..... That they become completely unaware of their surroundings.


If people took single moments to actually listen or look around, things could be completely different. Instead the spend copious amounts of time staring at the ground to avoid eye contact with strangers' eyes. They walk slowly as to not upset the steamed lines in their suits and skirts. They are too busy staring at their own reflections in shop windows, to see the eyes that stare back at them. Thinking if they just walk straight, eyes down, fingers tips parallel to their body, they can cross streets undetected.

They choose less than to participate in life, and even less too living it. But they walk on calmy unsurely, unaware of the slightest.

I understand in the career driven world, we are expected to wear suits. But when was it decided that we must also wear masks. I find people trying their hardest to keep from looking me in the eye.

Conversations become mindless dribble that pours forth effortlessly from people's faces, with no true intention for depth. It's become more and more difficult to communicate with people.

I'm not sure how I am supposed to speak to people now, maybe we should start wearing post it's on our foreheads. That way when we are busy staring at the ground.... Onlookers can just read our emotional output on neon green squares.

May sometime, somewhere down the line, you could look me in the face, ask me a genuine question, actually listen and stop staring at the ground. I'm sure the day you do that..... The crick in your neck will disappear.