we try look for truth. but this world is. an optical illusion. it is filled with colors. that infect our minds. until it’s hard to recognize. our own thoughts. until we realize. that we cannot fully trust. our own eyes. so maybe it’s time to close them. and open your heart instead. to finally discover. your true vision.
we all have a spark of fury. and the struggles of life. will light our fuse. but it is up to you. whether you use that fire. to burn others down. or to light up their path. this world is already so full. of burned and broken things. and what we need now. more than ever. are creators. so darling, do what you do best. and let karma do the rest.
you are an angel. for you wear your pain like a halo. letting it guide you. but never define you. even when it seems as if. the darkness is clinging. to your spine. you refuse to bow. you fight to shine. and now you’re not only. spreading your wings to fly. but you’re also holding my hand. guiding me to the light.
just as all the flowers. cannot bloom at the same time. you should never think of yourself. as further ahead. as farther behind. for we are moving at our own pace. and going to a unique place. so there is no need to rush. for the universe is moving in circles. and it works in second chances. it doesn’t know. what is early and what is late. it only shows. when the time is right.
you know i would show you the world. if i could. or even bring it to you. but there are some things. you must see and learn. on your own. some truths you must feel and note. while you are still this fragile. this young. and darling, tell me. what’s the point of finally learning to fly. if you have never. been tied to the ground?
i hope that. you find the courage and strength. in your soul. to put a smile on your lips. even when your heart is breaking. to give others your hand. even when your whole body is trembling. to give all your love away. even when you have nothing left. for when you feel most lost. your kindness will find its way. back to you.
we are all on a journey. writing our own story. and the golden rule as an author. is to never stop writing. don’t shy away from the pen. or be afraid of making mistakes. for then. you might never even finish. your first sentence. forget what you think it should be. and start creating the imagery. you would like to see. and the truth is. you cannot write a wrong word. for your story. has never been told before.
nothing is more powerful. than hope. that so softly finds its way. into our bodies. and make a home. of the most unlikely places. like desert trees and lotus flowers. it grows. in broken minds and dark hearts. and i choose to hold on to this idea. that there is light in every night. and a spark in every human mind. for hope. it grows everywhere.
when you are all alone. where do your thoughts go? do they fly to a place you once were. or one you would like to go. do they follow someone you know. wherever they are. or are they curling around a spirit. a being. an idea. that you have yet to find? when you are surrounded by nothing. but complete silence. let your thoughts go. and follow them. to come home.
your heart must be made of bones. in the way. it breaks and shatters. when violated with hands and words. and how it always grows. back together. now even stronger. in all the places. where it was once destroyed. so even if they can break you. they can never end you.
they mistake your softness. for weakness. but there is so much power. in forgiving rather than revenging. in whispering rather than yelling. in spreading your wings to fly. rather than staying to fight. when they light a spark. for fires cannot be killed by flames. only by the slow ocean waves. that we call grace.
emotions are soft and ever-changing. just like water. they run to fill the holes and cracks. after those who left us behind. and when we feel like drowning. we try to force them away. with violence. but like the ocean. they cannot be killed. instead you must slowly. allow them to leave. by rising to a higher place. than where you used to be.