And tonight my prayer was:
You once asked me: "Why do you look to the ground when you walk?"
"So I can see where I am treading." I said. "Why do you look to the sky?" I, equally bemused.
With a smile you reply "So I can see where I'm going."
The Places You Found LoveEveryone, but you especially as a woman, is biologically programmed to find babies cute. It's an evolutionary imperative, because the rational thing to do when you've got a screaming, shitting dependant taking up your food, is to kill it, and we need something to stop us doing that. It's also why people are generally attracted to big eyes and smooth skin - because they're characteristics of children.
And I'm not saying this to detract from the beauty of parenthood, or to make you sad, I'm saying it to point out that this fact doesn't make a baby's laugh any less wonderful. And I don't think the source of anything can make it less so.
This is why I can point out that any form of love isn't God or fate or destiny, it's that if two people have a strong emotional attachment, their children are more likely to survive.
Atomic bombs are beautiful.
So I will say that the me I am now, will and always has been feeling what I feel, but that sentence doesn't even make sense until we consider that
The Reasons We DieWhat I meant to say was that sometimes I just stare at the cigarette in my hands and beg for it to stop messing around and just kill me already.
But I figured you don't want to hear that.
The Shifting Nature of RealityYou asked me, "In these dreams, what does it look like?" I told you it looks different every time. Sometimes it's like a million feathers falling, sometimes it's like snow, sometimes it's like little stones, sometimes like ash, sometimes like a fine sand blowing across the hills. It's always silent. It falls around me but it never touches me. It never sticks. I told you sometimes I see dim figures walking in the distance through all the falling white. I told you I wish one would turn around and come to me. I wish one had your face. I wish the pink of your cheeks and blue of your eyes would appear to me unveiled from out of the drift. But the sad small figures don't turn around. They walk on, shoulders low, and disappear. I just watch them. You said, "I'm here now," and touched my hand. "I'm here now."
The Time Gone ByTick tock. All day. Every day is tick tocking by. There is no clock in your office that ticks or tocks, but you can hear the tick tock in your head. Tick. That's another second of your life gone, you think. Tock. That's one more second waiting for the man to tell you what to do. Tick. I'm a thinker, you think. Tock. Time to be a doer. Tick. You walk into your boss' office. Tock. I quit.
The clock stops.
The NuancePlay it one more time please, I need to hear it again. I need to make sure that its the only sound in my head. Play it again for me, I want to hear it once more. I want to make sure the only sound is correct. I don't want to hear that stare again. I don't want to see those words. I'll play the part again, I need to play it again. I need to make sure that every note is right. Give me a second to rehearse that part once more, I haven't been playing it right this entire time. I know it might sound right to you, but it doesn't sound right to me. I can't hear those words anymore. I never want to see that stare again. I have to keep playing. I never want to hear that again.
The Silence Goes On For YearsIn case of emergency, break glass. Throw plates. Cave to the insecurities you've harbored all along. Scream. Curse. Panic. Accuse her of never loving you, even though you know she did and still does. Tell her you never loved her. Tell yourself. Feel the world crumbling around you. Rip the rest of it down. Ignore her pleas. Her tears. Your regrets. Watch yourself leave, unable to stop your own feet. Slam the door. Keep walking. Realize, too late, that you didn't mean it.
The Art of Finding FlawsMaybe that's all it means, to grow up; to watch your heroes become human, right before your eyes.
the Millennia LaterDesolation has its own stark beauty. It's in the limbs of dead trees twisting up, pleading at the grey sky. It's in the air, cold with a faint hint of smoke and the barest breeze that stirs up the dust at your feet. The white-grey ash falls like snowflakes, dusting your hair, your coat, your mask. You catch one of the flakes and it crumbles between your gloved fingers. The ground is packed as hard as concrete under your boots as you turn your back on this cold, still world. You look up; the moon is barely visible. You will carry that memory with you as you go back underground. Mankind no longer has use for the stars.
.owt ni tihgRI wish I could go back in time.
And no, not to see dinosaurs.
No, I do not want to go to fix my mistakes.
I just want to watch humans evolve.
Because I know that from the start we were made in order to divide. You know, like right in two. Taking two halves of the resources, split them with the sharp stone blade. Divide all you have instead of uniting.
We all have the reason, but since we’re the ones who called it reason is it truly what we say it is? Our “reason” as we call it is to survive. But not as the mass, but rather as the individual. Everything we do on a daily basis comes back to benefiting ourselves.
Don’t believe me?
The first counterpoint I created to my own theory was friendship. We are the social wonders of the world, our communication leading to such advance developments. But friends are there to give us comfort, to help us and to share with us. Honestly everything a friend is for is a benefit. When we give to them to make them a friend, we are re
Newtonian LoveThe Third Law of Motion states that when something directs a force at something else, the something else exerts and equal force in the opposite direction.
You might not think that love is a force. You might think that it is intangible, a mere change in the chemistry of your brain. And you would be wrong. Love is most definitely a force. It has the power to stop you moving, to wipe blank your mind and steal your voice. It may not be the kind of force that moves mountains, but it moves humans just fine.
Now, imagine that you love someone. It doesn't matter who. Now imagine that this person doesn't love you back. It shouldn't be hard to imagine this, as I am fairly sure that everyone has felt like that at least once in their lives. This person, the one that you love, might well not even know that you exist.
How, then, does the Third Law apply? If you love someone, then surely they must love you back? Should they not respond with a force equal in fervour to the love that you feel for them?
Things seemed to have never changed...Looks like things don't change:
From space to space.
As technology advances.
We are still left with disasters....
From time to time.
Wars, disease, racism and others.
Seem to recycle every single day....
Nothing seems to have changed...
ReflexionsControl, power, peace, solitude. He didn’t need any other desire, ambition, thought or wall. Nothing like an obstacle on his path towards destiny. All his world belong to only him, and his fingers controlled everything around his domains. His silent life, solitary and gentle silence were his words. His desires, thoughts and wishes were his motivations. The clairvoyance and truth vision of the outside world, his pure eyes. His path, filled with obstacles but also future victories were his locomotion. And his beloved companions, the will for fight and his own life. His freedom, was something he very knew was to be gained. Everybody could fight destiny, or…ally with it and let it make the choices.
Control. Word itself filled with strength and authority. Only gained through force, diplomacy, or the word of a higher existence. But at what price, one could gain such ability. Words are powerful enough to take over anything, mark truths where lies are hidden and transform the
An intelligent thoughtIntelligence should not be judged by the questions one ask but by the answers one gives
Importance of SignifianceThere's a road humanity has made through centuries.
Within language meaning was born, words became big and gave beauty to the world.
Through every age, the words started to lose meaning in human thoughts. In some ages it came back, but soon enough brought down again.
As meaning of emotion starts to weaken in the human mind, and it is abandoned, I will weep.
Poetry and philosophy are beauty, an own heart of a deeper thought hidden in puzzles and riddles.
A deeper carved meaning in the wood of an age old tree.
This tree dies of old age, and the written cravings might still be there. But they're unreadable and unclear.
Meanings are lost through ages, that's how humanity is.
But sometimes there are people born with the gift or ability to understand a second side on cautiousness.
The consciousness of human mind has always fascinated me.
Saddened, that there are moments it has been weakened, I fear that one day it will be all gone.
Though, there are always people to remind me there's stil