The trick is not to stick with what won’t stick. Life's stories are muddy quarries where worries cloud those under and shroud with their thunder bereft memories like lightning hailing pain for rain.
They paint magenta over black skies or pale blue over white clouds. Some painters dab their brushes in magenta skies others in clouds.
Victim culture or victimology is real. It is the new culture and the bottomless magazine of the weaponized change gun. Change is essential. It is the law that governs the world just as death is inevitable.
Some steps you leap others you step and reap. Some jumps you miss other’s you fall into.
All in all ever illusive always evasive naturally pervasive remarkably persuasive and definitely destructive.
Reality is a tragedy of farce and irony Enthralled with deception and immorality Compounded by influence and opportunity.
Choices as true choices are very tricky. We all make choices because of a set of beliefs and interests. They may be influenced, distorted, misguided, misapplies, or even abused. In the end, no one can influence how we choose to maintain social interaction in a societal unit such as family or friends except us. We are the ones that reach down to our core to make choices that are not just about us, our desires and aspirations, our fears and complications, our interests and compromises; but also about empathy, sympathy, and humanity.
Elissar’s thoughts were racing faster than her heart because she wanted to say her mind only she was hearing Beroe’s. Beroe herself was frozen in fear thinking she had let down her goddess. “Beroe give Elissar her seeds. Elissar give Beroe your crescent” ordered the goddess. Immediately, Beroe took Elissar’s Venus’ comb and combed out five ruby seeds that were as big as a plum, six blue sapphire seeds as big as an olive, and four amber seeds as big as a pea. Then Elissar broke off her ivory and crystal crescent from its golden cage in her tiara and gave it to Beroe as a tear dropped unto it making a dent.
Truth is Life’s most flowing melodic piece. It is characterized by its highs and lows that are sharp in their falls yet quite flat in their upbeat tones. It’s ironic- life- but so are we in our relative needs and propensities. To each his own business for one’s sacred space is his and only his to embrace. To face life one needs to face the truth about himself and his surroundings with good faith not compromise or shaping people’s convictions to fit his.
Holding tight to her green and arid sierra shawls, she peers over a fresco valley set in leprechaun gold. Like a megalithic Buddha she rests on a boulder's shoulder beneath a thulian sky lit by a gingerline disco sun.
Home is in your arms. And warmth is in your laughs Right where peace lost its charms. And logic laid down its arms.
In essence, clarity and balance projected in being kind to one’s self are key to living life as a form of art in writing your own book the way you want it.
Taste is a matter of trust in one's Own self not others' opinion. Not all forms follow the norms. Everywhere you look nature Seems to mirror itself not others.
In the end, we are all mirrors that come in different shapes but we are mirrors that let you look within not at to take in and reflect all that come by to compare and compose. Whatever you do, remember, connection is the heart of art and conversation is the dart of art to perfection on the road to creativity.
Lies are mulberry leaves placed to bury truth about the land. But those who survived will make truth survive the legend passed.