Brick walls

We are running to our goals. Keeping our heads down, sometimes we lose sight of why we do what we do. But, then we run into brick walls and they stop us right in our tracks. And it feels like it's impossible to get up and run again. But, brick walls teach us many things. We learn to pick ourselves up. We learn to climb over brick walls or run through them. We learn how much we are willing to do to get to the other side. Most importantly they remind us of why we run. Because we love it.

As you are

It may be easier to be who the world wants you to be than being yourself. You can lie to the world, pretend that you are happy and live in the comfort of being the status quo. But deep inside, you will never truly be happy living a lie. The truth is not perfect but, at least it is honest. We are all we have, so come as you are.

Half

When you are halfway from the end, you are halfway from the beginning. May the last half be as good as the first and may every moment be as precious. As you grow from strength to strength do not forget what is important and always remember why you grow.

May the wind always be at your back and the sun upon your face.

And may the wings of destiny carry you aloft to dance with the stars.

Ambition is a double edged sword.
Too little and you will achieve nothing.
Too much and you will have nothing.

Butterfly Effect

Looking back on the way life has unfolded, there are moments that leave me wondering.

What if I had chosen the other path?
What if I had done things differently?
What if I listened to my brain rather than my heart?

The decisions I make are my choice and my responsibility. The impacting ripples and far reaching dominos set on a path, that beyond the first innocent push I am helpless to stop. They are the pebbles that trigger the landslide, the snowflakes that release the avalanche. And at the end of it when I look back, what kind of trail will I have left?

I suppose that is a question that only time can answer. And although I realise I may be that butterfly, if I don't flap my wings, how will I ever learn to fly?

Today I saw him cry. It broke my heart. But, for the first time in my life, I understood the meaning of dedication.

Wake up

Do you remember waking up from a dream?

As the sweet nothings that fill your dream start to ebb away, you grasp desperately at the fragments of what never was in an attempt to feel what you thought you felt, all the while knowing the futility of your efforts. For a split second, doubt creeps in and you are caught between the dream and reality, senseless and unable to distinguish between the two. Which is real and which is false? And then, in that moment of hesitation, the last fragments of the dream is lost.

You have to wonder. If you are dreaming. If this is not real. When will you wake up?

To my friends

I want to believe
come rain or shine
no matter how fierce the storm
that I will be your shelter.

I want to believe
that although circumstances separate us
no matter how far
you will always be close to me.

I want to believe
through ups and downs
no matter how high or low
that I will be there for you.

I want to believe
that even if you are absent from my mind
no matter how long
you will never be absent from my heart.

I want to believe
that even as we form new bonds
no matter how strong
that we will cling dearly to the old.

I want to believe
that as we make new memories
no matter how beautiful
that we will cherish the ones we made together.

I want to believe
that at the end of the road
no matter which path we take
that you are here with me.

I want to believe
that at the end of the day
no matter who we become
that you will always be my friend.

I believe
that no words
unspoken or otherwise
will ever justify our friendship.


From,
Your friend.

Beacon

When I woke up, it was a new day.

A fresh start. The starting of a new journey.

Like the ripples in a pond, the far reaching effects of this beginning are not readily visible. At least not for the time being. Its immensity is beyond our comprehension other than the overwhelming wave of emotions that snowballs into us.

There is so much more to believe in, so much more to hope for, yet there is so much that is uncertain and even more to lose. This is what empowers us and it is having something to lose that inspires us to fight.

The barrier we have unknowingly transcended still remains, but knowing that it is not impregnable and armed with this belief and the audacious hope of a better future, we will succeed.

This is our moment.

Roll on two

If you're happy or you're sad,
If you're good or you're bad,
If you're laughing or you're crying,
If you're' living or you're dying,
Life goes on.

211205 ≠ 34 x 14 ≠ 0

Shhhh....

A wise old owl lived in an oak

The more he saw the less he spoke

The less he spoke the more he heard

Why can't we all be like that wise old bird?

Rite Of Passage

As the date draws closer, the scrutiny placed on the protagonist continues to grow... The expectations begin to mount as the pressure builds, both from inside and out... The protagonist knows that this is the most important performance of his life... This performance will make or break him... It is his rite of passage...

Rigidly, almost mechanically he rehearses his steps... It is beautifully deceptive, perfect in almost every way, but still it is not complete... In the midst of putting on his front he has forgotten what matters the most... That which transforms his simplest movements into the fluid and coherent beauty which is his art... That fragility which gives the audience just a glimpse of his fallibility... For it is from this tiniest of imperfections through which true perfection can arise... Yes, indeed, in his quest for perfection, he has lost his human touch...

The seconds tick by as he continues rehearsing... His unfaltering confidence sustains him, but the seeds of doubt have already been planted... The key to success lies within him, but yet he cannot, will not find it... It is his denial that holds him back...

For the rest of the world, the games will soon begin, but for the protagonist, the games have long begun...

Seek

Sometimes we lose sight of what we seek, but that does not mean that it is no longer there... it just means we have to look harder for it... if we forget why we seek what we seek we stop seeking... and that is why we must always remember the reasons for our crusades... lest we forget...

One day...

When we offer someone the gift of friendship, we open our hearts to them... Shouldn't that be what friendship is? Letting someone know you, reaching out to them and showing them who you are...

Or is that just what we want to believe?

When we were young, it used to be... But now, away from our sheltered lives, friendship just does not seem as simple as I used to remember...

There are just so many hidden agendas and vested interests when it comes to making friends... Everyone wants something...

The beautiful simplicity of making a friend has become completely lost in the process... Swallowed up by human greed and personal gain...

So much so that sometimes it makes it so difficult for us to open our hearts to make new friends... There grows the fear of betrayal, of being used and carelessly tossed aside... But, we must still try, for it is friendships that teach us, that nurture us and mould us into what we are...

And maybe one day we can make friends like we once did...

London Rain

It looks like rain, it sounds like rain...

But, it doesn't feel like rain... It doesn't even smell like rain...

Just because it appears to be like rain, it doesn't mean that it is real rain... Like so many other people and things around us...


"I'd rather shower in my own piss, cos at least I know its sterile."

Times That Stir Our Souls

Nothing is certain, only change... and indeed the winds of change will blow...

But, change and uncertainty comes hand in hand... The passing of what was leaves a gaping hole in our lives... This is the hole where doubt, if we let it, grows...

However, it is at times like these, when we have nothing to fall back on, or lose for that matter, that we realise our potential... These are the times that bring out the best in people... And when we strive, we will find the light at the end of the tunnel... That ray of hope that signals the break of a new dawn... For stumbling in the dark we learn to see not with our eyes, but with our minds and through our thoughts...

It is for times like these we live...

Even more so when we once again have something to believe in ...

Hope

Why do I hang on?

Clinging with that dogged depravity to what I believe... What we used to believe...

Will the dying embers of what was give birth to new life? Renewing, rewarding hope? Or will they, like everything else disappear, washed away by the flow of time...

Why then should we continue to hope?

Like an autumn oak holding on to its leaves... I wait, aware of what will come to pass, but hanging on ever so desperately...

And the seconds tick on...

We break, we mend ...

Do we break things so we can mend them? How can we break something we love?

How do we bring ourselves to pick up the pieces, arrange them so they are the way they were and expect them to mend?

Maybe that is what love is about... Mending things that break... Putting the broken bits back together...

And when will mending not be enough? When will the glue called love not be strong enough to hold the broken bits in place... What then?

Maybe somethings are better left broken...

Rest in peace....

Have you ever had that feeling of wanting something a lot? So much so that thinking about it just brings that surge of excitement... Leaving you almost momentarily numb and positively buzzing with happiness...

And when you get what you've been wanting... But find out that it has all changed... the essence of what you dreamt it would be like ripped out, dead, gutted... What you wanted is gone, and all that remains is a shell of what was, a body without a soul...

In that case, would it be better to still get what you want or to remain happy in the knowledge of what could have been?

All the hopes and expectations are gone...

What remains is a memory that will never fade...

Marianne

How can a person love something/someone that does not love it back?

Is it wrong to expect returned affection?

And if that 'love' is returned is it for the right reasons or is there more to it than that?

At the end of the day we never know, we just love, sometimes blindly, without understanding the complexities and subtleties of this 'love'. In the end will it be worth it? Will it make us or will it break us?

I love my country, but does it love me?