“Rocket Ships And Internet” Written by A Dreamer


I wish I could find a place for me

Somewhere I could just be me

Butterflies and raindrops in the air

Everything all good and right and fair

But the world that I live in

Is war-torn and bleeding

The people are screaming

Save me now

Save me now


Rocket ships

And internet

Beautiful people

And it’s all pretend

Take my hand we’ll

Run away

Into fairyland

Where it’s all romance

I wish I could fly above the clouds

Under the cover of midnight’s shroud

Taking my time oh it’s so grand

Soaring so high above the land

But the house that I live in

Is all plastic and filling

And the water is running

And somewhere an animal is dying

Save them now

Save them now



Take me and everybody

Somewhere safe

Somewhere lovely

We’ll swing from tires

And bathe in streams

Living on stardust and dreams


Click HERE to listen. Take care. ❤


You Are Unseen Royalty


I am princess, just like many of you (or a prince, if you’re male; princes can be just as lovely and noble, contrary to storybooks where they do nothing but miraculously save the day).

I was not born in a palace. I did not grow up in marble hallways paved with porphyry, wearing silken finery, with pearls in my hair and a pond of precious fish inside my bedroom. I did not, and still do not, live in a world, where suffering does not touch me. I do not go to balls, or have servants waiting on me hand and foot. I am not beloved, in the way beautiful, wealthy and important people are. There are no handsome suitors, waiting in a line for my hand.

But I know I am a princess, nonetheless. Even if all my hair and teeth were to fall out, and my skin to become wrinkled, if I stumbled through the streets in nothing but rags, if all the world burned and raged, and I lay amongst the ashes, nursing my wounds, I would know, with roaring ferocity, that I am, and always will be, a princess.

Because this is what it means, to be a prince, or a princess.

It means not to be wealthy, but to give your wealth to the needy.

It means not to be outwardly beautiful, but to be kind, a kind of unseen beauty.

It means not to live in a home that is like a wonderland, but to have a wonderland living inside your mind.

If you are able to dance to beautiful music in the dark, to stand on a balcony and throw your arms out and smile; if you are able to stroke an animal, and love it; if you can look at an orphanage, on the news, online, and feel nothing but a desire to help the children; if you are the man or woman who sits by themselves near the window and curls up with a good book to float away into the clouds; if Disney movies and childhood films take your breath away; if you are the kind of person to risk your own life to go back into the danger zone to save someone else; if you are an artist, who creates dreams using paintbrushes and pencils, if you believe in magic, and see it everywhere you go—
—then you, my friend, are royalty. You are blessed. You are a prince, a princess. You are beautiful. You shine like flowers in the sunlight. God looks upon you, and he cries tears of joy at your existence, at your exquisite, beautiful heart.

And it’s a funny thing. People who are truly princes and princesses, for most of their lives, never realise they are; usually, not until they get a bit braver, and stronger, more self-aware, and reach out to God in their adulthood, do they realise the beauty that shines from them.

Princes and princesses are not perfect. Like everyone, we commit sin, by which I mean, any act which makes us, after its completion, feel disgraced, or ashamed, or afraid. Our hands are not spotless. Our mouths have not always spoken kind words, nor our minds. But no matter how dark, how dismal, how deeply we fell into hatred or jealousy, our hearts remained pure and lustrous as pearls.

The reason we take so long to realise our birthright is because, from the moment we were born, full of daydreams, sensitivity and hope, our light is attacked by the darkness of others. There is a lot of poison in the world, and all of it comes from the hate, pride, greed and insecurity within the hearts of other people. There is nothing an unkind person hates more than seeing someone else showing kindness; nothing a conventional person hates more than unconventionality; nothing a cowardly person hates more than seeing another being brave; nothing an unimaginative person hates than seeing another bleed creativity from their veins; nothing an unhappy and miserable person hates than someone who seems to have nothing, yet is able to smile at the sight of flowers on the grass; nothing a person who gave up on their dreams and decided to follow society’s norms more than someone who lives boldly and bravely, pursuing their dreams to the ends of the earth, even if they die in the process; nothing someone who sees no magic in the world hates more than someone who seems to find it in everything and everywhere—

You are a creature of light. I say this in the hopes that you will not become egotistical, or self-righteous about it; you are a creature of light, in the way birds fly, and the sky is blue. You did not earn it. That is important. You were blessed with kindness, with the ability to be happy, to see beauty, to daydream, to love and to care for other people and animals. And for the longest time, you will feel completely insignificant and out of place, more bitterly lonely than some people can possibly imagine. A lot of the world is not bright. A lot of the people in this world, while they are beautiful, somewhere on the inside, have lost their light, and have been instead been consumed by darkness.

All those years you were trampled upon, bullied, neglected, abused, treated as stupid, silly, all those years of feeling “different”, left out—all of that, was because you shone too brightly for some people, reminding them of the light they had lost; all of the social persecution, hatred, jealousy directed at you today, is because there is nothing darkness hates more than light. You irritate those people more than anything else in the world, just by doing nothing except being yourself, by daydreaming, by expressing the gifts God has decided to give you, by feeling the happiness that you naturally let burst up from your heart. When people who have lost their light see that, they are so full of rage, and hatred, at themselves, that they seek to destroy you, believing that if they can just annihilate the light before their eyes, they will feel better about their own dark lives. What they don’t know is that darkness, if it destroys light, only becomes darker.

You are a prince. You are a princess. People may—and they will—tear the clothes from your back, whip you until you bleed, throw you into the pigs’ pen, leave you behind while they go to the ball and enjoy themselves, cast you into the wasteland of loneliness until you are in too much pain to even scream, until you lie, broken and gasping, naked and pitiful. Do not give in. The light inside of you will never abandon you. Don’t let people who seem to hate you, and put you down, for no reason, for being happy, for being creative, for being sensitive and kind, for daydreaming, for dancing to music or singing on your way to work, for following your dreams, for knowing you have, on some level, been blessed, gifted —don’t let a single one of them stop you from shining.

Royalty is not something you own, but something you already have, deep inside not a treasure chest, but a heart. You have been crowned, though nothing ugly and golden sits on your head, by the light and goodness that exists in the world; and no matter how much people who live in darkness loathe seeing a carefree, yet ordinary person walking around in a state of shining light, kindness, and a mysterious kind of happiness, a faraway look in their eyes, know that you are blessed, and that there is a kingdom where you belong, amongst angels and stardust.

Do not hate those who hate your light; that is a grave mistake that I make, and still do, because it is so easy to go on the defensive when others hurt you, and often quite badly, without knowing how delicate and sensitive you are; but do not hate them, in your hearts, because they are the ones who live in a dark world of pain that you have no knowledge of, that would make the wasteland they throw you into seem like a lush garden. Instead, let them hurt you, and walk on, stumbling a little, but stumbling towards the light, which is all that matters.

A Little “Doomsday” Prophecy


There is a sight that I hate almost more than anything else in the world, and it is a strange one: that of a prospective parent, be it mother or father, holding their own biological baby to themselves, covetously, closely, greedily. Their body language says it all: this child is mine, look at me, I have made offspring, I have achieved a milestone in life. They are smug, and proud. They are loving, yet cruel.

Because as they hold that very same baby, in their nice home, in a first world country, over tens of millions of orphans exist around the world. Motherless. Fatherless. Starving, dying, getting raped, abused, exploited. Babies. Toddlers. Children.

Somewhere along the line—and perhaps this is a failing of humanity, or modern society in first world-countries—possessing children, giving birth, to one child, two children, or more, carrying that baby in your arms while a diamond ring sparkled on your finger, became a status symbol, like getting married, like owning a house, like owning a car, like going on holidays and splattering your social media with pretty pictures of your lovely, pretty life.

Here’s a little doomsday prophecy for you: in my heart, and in the minds and hearts of scientists and professors around the world, all is not well on Earth. And the reason for this is Overpopulation. Our planet simply has too many people on it. We are almost like ants, crawling over the planet, using up its resources, desecrating its lakes, its forests. I could throw a couple of statistics at you—for instance, that over 27,000 trees are cut down EVERY day to produce toilet paper for everyone around the world. Just think about that. With just that number, for toilet paper, something we use just to wipe ourselves after we go to the bathroom, entire forests are decimated every single year.

The wastage is indescribable. If Mother Nature could speak, she would be speechless with agony and pain. The amount of plastic, the amount of toxic waste, the amount of water consumed, fuel consumed, trees culled, rubbish thrown into the sea, poisonous fumes released into the air, is beyond comprehension.

Somewhere along the line, we forgot we belong to Mother Nature, that we came from God just like the trees and the lakes and the animals. Somewhere along the line, we decided to treat this beautiful planet as our very own playground, to be done with as we pleased.

Overpopulation. Millions of babies, being born everyday, at a rate far greater than people dying. Millions of forests, cut down. When you hurt nature, you hurt yourself. Do you have any idea how important trees are? I won’t go into the science of it—you already know that; they provide oxygen, they provide us with material to build houses and furniture, are homes for thousands of beautiful species of animals. But there is a spiritual aspect to trees you might not know about it. Place your hand against the trunk of a tree, and you will feel immediately at peace. The gentle strength of Mother Nature flows into you.

Bite into a juicy apple. Nature’s sweet gift flows into your mouth, your body, giving you strength. Drink some water, and clear, crystalline power of it enters your entire bodily system, refreshing you, healing you. Breathe air, feel the breeze, lie on the grass—all around you, Mother Nature is holding you close, telling you that you and Her are one. Look at yourself. Blood flows through your veins, you have skin, eyes, like any animal; you live on food that grows out of the ground, with the help of water and sunlight, like magic.

And I tell you that if Earth’s population doesn’t reduce soon, if we don’t start becoming a little more frugal, have less children and instead take care of the fatherless and motherless children that already exist, treat water as a precious commodity instead of something to be poured down the sink, consume less energy—

Then someday, many generations from now, a person will yearn to bite into some fresh fruit, and never be able to.

Someday, countries will go to war over water, something which we, who live in first world countries, get just by turning on a tap.

Someday, trees will be so few in number, the remaining ones will be guarded and preserved like national treasures.

Someday, millions of people will die, on a planet too polluted and broken.

Mother Nature loves you. She provides everything for you. Water, earth to grow food, trees that we can cut down, a couple here and there, to build shelter. But if we keep on taking until she is nearly dead, then we will die, too. We are like babies drinking our mother’s blood, instead of her milk.

I am afraid, and sorrowful.