The Real You

There is certain person
A special person
A powerful person
A beautiful person
A great person
A wise person
A mighty person
A blessed person
A wonderful person
And that person is you
Existing inside of you
And has always been part of you
The real you…

But unfortunately
You have been on the run
Running away from this special person
Sadly you have been hiding from this wonderful person
The real you…

You are afraid of this person
You cow in awe of this person
You really admire this person
You are frightened by the sheer power and potential you instinctively sense in this person
But unfortunately
You have been alienated
From this person
The real you…

Lies
Fake beliefs
Hearsays
Rumors
Brainwashing
Stereotyping
Have all separated you
From this great person
The real you…

Be yourself
And remember that
You are here
Not to please anybody
Apart from your dear God

It’s time
To holistically
Reconnect
With your real self…

Advertisements

Restless

Always
And unending
And lurking in the heart
And lacking in the soul
A constant
And an agitated state of being
Of searching
Of reaching out
Of looking out
Of what I know not and what it is
Reigns in my realm of reality
But still
The soul yearns for it deeply
A certain and ravenous hunger
Assaults my very being
Making I restless
A hunger of something I don’t understand
Of something I have never had before
Of something I have never seen before
Nor touched before
Nor held before
But the longing is still there
A strong desire
And I instinctively know that I will understand it
Once it hits me
But until then
Restlessness rules..

Upon This Table…

Upon this white topped table,
There lies various scribbles and doodles,
Of someone’s life story,
Of someone’s dreams,
Of someone’s trials,
Of someone’s happiness,
It is all here,
Upon this white topped table,
And some coffee spills,
Upon the scribbles and doodles,
Burning their aspirations…

This Might Be The Best Opening In Literature

Ouch!

101 Books

Ships at a distance have every man’s wish on board. For some they come in with the tide. For others, they sail forever on the horizon, never out of sight, never landing until the Watcher turns his eyes away in resignation, his dreams mocked to death by Time. That is the life of men.

That opening from Their Eyes Were Watching God is one of the best openings in literature.

The rhythm and pacing of ZNH’s sentences, the truthfulness and conviction in what she’s saying. It’s just a beautiful opening, I think.

And it sets the stage for the entire novel, along with this second paragraph.

Now, women forget all the things they don’t want to remember, and remember all the things they don’t want to forget. The dream is the truth. Then they act and do things accordingly.

Quite a contrast of description in those two opening paragraphs.

And…

View original post 27 more words