One blog. Hundreds of things that catch my interest




Lily for death, 
Rose for love. 

Peaceful white, 
Blackened grief. 
Society's needs. 

Defiant purple, 
Eccentric green, 
Stereotyped words, 
Silently mean.
Society's norms. 

Valentine love, 
Happy Birthday. 
Presents, wishes, 
Flowered phrases. 
Society's call. 

Careful questions, 
Implicit meaning. 
Unneeded advice, 
Jealous eyes. 
Society's dealing. 

Vulgar red, 
Old cream. 
String of pearls, 
Words of wisdom, 
Society's help. 

Unheeded path, 
Break away. 
Take control, 
Run away. 
Society's hit. 

Culture's dead, 
Language reformed.
Or the society? 
Importance informed. 

Path steeped,
Difficulties arose. 
We fought back, 
And here we are, 
Society's lax. 

For the better, 
Or for worse, 
Society's banded, 


A thought struck, 
Collided with another. 
Fallen milk with a shower, 
Turned to snow stuck,
To the ground. 
On a quiet winter day, 
A thoughtless whisper, I say. 
It turns into a dialogue.
My imagination and I, 
Twist tales and lie. 
Argue and reason,
Throw ideas around for fun. 
Then, work beckons.
Yet, the mind still drifts.
Twenty years from now, 
With a book all done, 
A writer takes a bow.
Puts down his pen, 
As the photographer,
Adjusts his lens. 
Five more years, 
And the photos most dear, 
Are painted with a careful hand. 
What next? 
Another occupation,
Slowly takes a stand. 
The dog outside barks,
Good Lord,
Two hours have passed!
Reality seeps in,
Reason takes up the reins.
To boring now, I return. 
Reluctantly, its importance,
I affirm.
With a cup of milky tea, 
By the side. 
I turn up the light, 
And set forth, 
On my responsibilities tonight.

The story of life

The page turns,
And compels the new day to rush forth.
As destiny writes on, 
Never looking back,
Always keeping ahead of man. 
Going mile after mile,
As the pages turn, 
The end is near. 
The book writes itself. 
And, by the end,
Each life,
Is, but a story unique
In its own way.
Equally enticing,
Equally worthwhile,
Equally consuming.

They say you are born for a reason, a purpose. And when that is fulfilled you fade away from reality and exist only in people’s memories. Those memories, the remnants of your actions, those are your legacy.

Anger they say is physical. Physical? I ask again. Something so strong, so hurtful, something that can overcome mind and will, how can it be merely physical? Physical is hunger, and thirst not this poison that consumes one like a fire and then alights the person next to you.

Destiny they say cannot be changed. Something so meticulously written to the last word by God, so absolute, how can it be changed by the mere will of man? Yet they forget that it is God who wrote it and it can be changed if He wills it to.

They say all this to try and make you and me, and all those who wish to be different, something more, to reduce people who think and believe like us, to a minority. And when the right time comes to snuff out the light we carry in our hearts. The light which makes us hope that one day the world as we know it will be a better place.

‘I simply can’t build my hopes on a foundation of confusion, misery and death…I think…peace and tranquility will return again.’ -Anne Frank

Let us all, step away from this terror and sadness of today’s world and take a deep breath and widen our horizons. Believe that everyone is good, unless it is proven otherwise. And cling onto whatever hope you carry, no matter how dire the circumstances might be.


I talk to myself a lot. It’s not an uncontrollable desire, rather, I think, the result of an over-active, frustrated imagination. Any movie, play or serial I have watched is continued in my head with the storyline that I prefer while I mouth out the words, playing the role of the most interesting character. Am I insane? I think not. Is this unusual. I hope so. Every man has a desire to be different, so do I. Anyway, this makes me think about one thing, imagination. What is it? An absolutely brilliant thing, that leads us to a different almost, to an alternate universe, a visual story of which you are the author. It’s similar to lucide dreaming now that I think of it. It’s a satisfying escape from the mundane reality, it’s uses? Many, some I am sure have not even been discovered, yet. It’s there to recreate crime scenes, stir up lies, stories, disrupt the line between memories and facts. It’s there to help you make decisions, create the reality after that choice, weigh the pros and cons and then guide you towards the right decision. It is what enables us to think outside the box, and then once outside, to eventually get rid of the box. Mentally stimulating, throughly motivating it is what shows you where and what you want to achieve in life. Thus, governing the most powerful thing you possess, your will. So let your mind wander, let your thoughts walk through the maze of reality and create your own reality. Realize and imagine what you want to be and what you want to do in life and go do it. 

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