The Dream…

I dream often, to the point where I feel like it’s reality. I guess you can say I’m a vivid dreamer, although a lover once stole all my dreams and gave me peace of mind for many nights. Yet I wonder what if those dreams are parallel worlds? Different worlds that are constantly there but unknown to us during our waking hours.

In my dream world, I see people from my past, present, and future. It’s a symbiosis of worlds. They sometimes clash like a falling star from above but they always create a constellation of magical expressions. My dreams are not always happy and intense sometimes they are mellow and without any particular direction. At times they seem prophetic – I seem to know the future before it’s ever occurred and I wake up with glossy eyes. It might seem nonsensical to people and most of the time they are completely chaotic. I might be falling from a cliff and then lay next to a person I haven’t known since I was seven years old.

Yet the most amazing thing about dreams is the creation of these different worlds. Many mornings I wake up from a deep sleep and I have these great ideas. It’s as if I was touched by Midas and have these golden ideas. I seemingly pick them from these enchanted trees in the world of dreams and for that particular reason, I believe my particular dream last night is worthy of this post.

All love,

miss x

Reality doesnt sell…

I see artists, singers and creators of all walks in life, that compromise their artistry to sell something. I’m not saying that’s wrong, because in essence artists and creative people, want their work to be seen, heard and felt by other people. However, I am annoyed at the fact that REALITY, everything that inspires us isn’t allowed to thrive in the creative industries. Let me explain what I mean, OK – so basically we all find inspiration from life and people we know about YET this is not something that is often seen in the creative world nowadays, instead we replace it with characters that are meant to represent that reality. I don’t know if social media is harming artistry, but to be able to sell your work, you become a character instead of basing it off reality. Again, this is not something that is new – artists have always created alter egos and characters( I call myself Miss X because she’s able to create freely and is another side of me) but what I’m saying is that it seems that many people, just create to sell whether that be something good or bad. I don’t necessarily think that creative people are supposed to create for the sake of money, because I’d like to be a romantic and say WE need to do it because else we would die… I think we live in a generation that thrives in perfection; and while that isn’t wrong per say it is quite scary. When we don’t even allow ourselves to be naked for a moment, that starts to becoming limiting and harmful. I want people to look at reality and not be afraid of that, even if doesn’t sell (or is liked in the instance of social media) because at the end of the day, you won’t be happy that you’ve compromised your creativeness for others to eat it. Explore, expand and be imaginative.

-miss x

(Random thoughts that come to me in the middle of the day…)

He ran off to India, to find God… I sat by myself looking for mystery…

At this very moment, I’m sitting quietly – trying to grasp the idea that I wont be seeing him anymore. He is officially gone. Not in the sense of him actually being dead, but rather beyond of that notion – the idea of sitting with someone and conversate with them in your dreams. That’s the idea; that is dead. I was always looking for mystery with him, because the way I saw him – he was my mirror. The one that I saw myself reflected within. Honestly though, it might have been the idea of looking for mystery – that intrigued me. I don’t know. Anyways, he ran off to India, to find God…I was appalled, almost; as if a part of myself had died. Did we really need this? Wasn’t music our God? Or the arts for that matter? I think he is rather selfish. I would never say this to him though. I wouldn’t dare to do it; because that would only mean – that I would have to go places, I’m not comfortable with. So I sat by myself looking for mystery… Not knowing when it would re-appear again. I miss my friend. If we ever were friends, that is… 

 

– miss x 

(Fiction/truth? what is in this world?)