“I’m afraid that some times
you’ll play lonely games too.
Games you can’t win
’cause you’ll play against you.”
- Dr. Seuss
something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue
”Fragments”, ”plasma”, ”creature”. Once I was dedicated to ”chaos”, but it wasn’t mine.
It’s the evening and my room is slowly inhaling lazy early-summer air through the screen window, drifting over my bed like a warm air mass. It’s these times, when summer is just starting, that you feel like it’ll last forever, and it’ll always feel this good. It’s like the beginnings of first love, just when you realize that you’re in love, when you haven’t been rejected yet, when you hope and imagine and expect that everything will turn out the best. It happened to coincide for me, the beginning of last summer. But summer goes on. The air turns more humid, you’re up at midnight, listening to cricket chirps and watching firefly glows. You wouldn’t want the air any cooler than it is, because it has the feel of summer to it. You know you’re in the middle of summer, you know you can calculate when the exact midpoint of summer is – but then, you’ll have ruined all the summers you have remaining, because you can’t fool yourself anymore, summer’s not half-over yet. But it passes, just like the summers before and the summers after.
by Arthur O’Shaughnessy
WE are the music-makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers,
And sitting by desolate streams;
World-losers and world-forsakers,
On whom the pale moon gleams:
Yet we are the movers and shakers
Of the world for ever, it seems.
With wonderful deathless ditties
We build up the world’s great cities,
And out of a fabulous story
We fashion an empire’s glory:
One man with a dream, at pleasure,
Shall go forth and conquer a crown;
And three with a new song’s measure
Can trample an empire down.
We, in the ages lying
In the buried past of the earth,
Built Nineveh with our sighing,
And Babel itself with our mirth;
And o’erthrew them with prophesying
To the old of the new world’s worth;
For each age is a dream that is dying,
Or one that is coming to birth.
Pay attention to whom you share your intimate energy with. Intimacy at this level intertwines your aural energy with the aural energy of the other person. These powerful connections, regardless of how insignificant you think they are, leave spiritual debris, particularly within people who do not practice any type of cleansing, physical, emotional or otherwise. The more you interact intimately with someone, the deeper the connection and the more of their aura is intertwined with yours.
Imagine the confused aura of someone who sleeps with multiple people and carries around these multiple energies? What they may not realize is that others can feel that energy which can repel positive energy and attract negative energy into your life.
I always say, never sleep with someone you wouldn’t want to be.
~Lisa Chase Patterson
“The world is full of magical things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper”
”If you want to become whole, let yourself be partial.
If you want to become straight, let yourself be crooked.
If you want to become full, let yourself be empty.
If you want to be reborn, let yourself die.
If you want to be given everything, give everything up.
The Master, by residing in the Tao, sets an example for all beings.
Because he doesn’t display himself, people can see his light.
Because he has nothing to prove, people can trust his words.
Because he doesn’t know who he is, people recognize themselves in him.
Because he has no goal in mind, everything he does succeeds. When the ancient Masters said, “If you want to be given everything, give everything up,”
they weren’t using empty phrases.
Only in being lived by the Tao can you be truly yourself.”
— Lao Tzu
“In the end, only three things matter:
how much you loved, how gently you lived,
and how gracefully you let go of things not meant for you.”
— Buddhist saying
just a thought: The boy finds himself lost in oblivion inside his mind and outside. He travels through different stages of panic, while outside things aren’t any less complicated. The plot really is about the boy going through the 7 stages of hell but he doesn’t know it yet, neither the audience does. In shades, he keeps going darker by things that he cannot control, his wings go so dark through the process the shades are darker than ink.
He travels his suffering by associating it with events that had come to pass in his life. In all this he doesn’t know where he is, because he is so deep within he can’t distinguish evil from good. Sometime in the story an angel tries to find him, someone from his past, but the darkness is so suffocating that the angel either perishes or vanishes but it brings the memory of the goodness in his life that he fights back the visions he’s having, he’s acting the things he couldn’t or didn’t do in his life and crawls his way towards a safe place. The three women in the story are the Maiden, The Mother and the other one(…) He sees symbols in everything and even talks to the devil.
The winds were picking up their speed. The rain was louder in his ears, as he got closer.
“It’s so beautiful” he whispers, his eyes trained on the phenomenon.
“It’s also the most dangerous” his partner replies.
It’s always gonna be that way.
It defines the course of our lives.
We are destined for greatness. Our choices are made, our path decided. But, she knew she was different, was destined for something else. Something powerful filled her veins, making her aware, making her think. She came from the sky to set us free.
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