In the midst of shimmering, pendant tears that fell gracefully
like a soothing, cooling summer rain, bringing with them
a sense of calm and renewal, I couldn't help but reminisce about
our carefree days of youth.

We used to playfully refer to such rain as a "monkey's wedding,"
finding joy in the whimsical nature of the world around us.

It was during those precious moments that we formed a bond,
united by our shared sense of humor and our pursuit of wishful thinking, always hoping to find that elusive *** of gold at the end of the rainbow.
We believed that if we could stumble upon such a treasure,
it would grant us the luxury of time, allowing us to forget the struggles and challenges we faced in our everyday lives.
In our innocence, we placed our trust in the wisdom that only
a youth can muster up in their playful explorations.

As I reflect on those days, I can still vividly picture the magnificent mud castles we built, standing tall and proud, mirroring the immense joy and satisfaction we derived from our imaginative endeavors.
They were like immortal empires, resilient against the test of time,
but only if we nourished them with our ever-fertile imaginations.

Like tender saplings in need of water, our castles depended on
the constant flow of our dreams to survive and thrive.

And just as the sun warms the earth and gently dries up the
morning dew, I hope that if I ever find myself receding and
drying up, it is only in the context of my grand finale.
There is still so much left for me to accomplish, so many dreams
to chase and conquer.

In the hearts of those who embrace their inner child, there is a
constant beating, a fervent longing to return to that imaginative
state and be transported to a world that knows no bounds.
It is a nation within the mind, regardless of its size or its capacity
to hold the dreams and aspirations of its inhabitants.

There lies a straight and narrow life, visioned in my crooked eyes,
as I dream of a thought, but never thought much of the dream.
It's a constant struggle to grasp the concept of common sense,
trying to make sense of the world around me.
Sometimes though, I feel the need to find a few commas, not only
to improve the flow of my writing but also to make a little more
of the common cents, to bring more financial stability and
understanding around me.

I cannot; would not, still I can knot the lies on a
twisted tongue, but I've come to realize that like wood,
which doesn't break as easily within a knot, I too have my own
strength amidst the tangled web of dishonesty.
A reminder that we all have the power to resist falsehoods
and maintain our integrity.

Amidst the chaos and uncertainty,
I still hold onto my thoughts of the present, cherishing it as gift
in the moment and treasuring the lessons and experiences that
shaped me. I understand that these present moments are
the building blocks for my future. Each choice and action I take
today has a ripple effect on what lies ahead of me.

In this fleeting existence, we are faced with two paths — either
we cautiously tread on thin ice, carefully navigating the dangers
and risks, or we seize the opportunity and run as quickly as we
can towards our goals.

Regardless of which path we choose, we must always remain
cautious. Life is fragile and transient, and ultimately leads
us to the inevitable destination of death.
Try your best to enjoy all that you have in the moment.

I strive to maintain balance, embracing the straight and narrow,
in the complexity and uniqueness within my own perspective.
Like tranquil waters patiently awaiting the refreshing touch of rain,
it is wiser for me not to resist the natural order of the world;
instead, I rely on my God to serve as my powerful weapon.

Family will disappoint you when you least expect it,
money will often fail you, slipping through your fingers
just when you need it the most.

Successes, no matter how plentiful, will inevitably run dry,  
time, a merciless force, will never be on your side, slipping
away faster than you can grasp it.

However, your dreams will stand as an unwavering companion,
that greets you each morning and accompanys you as you sleep.

And even in death, your dreams will continue to live on
in the hearts and minds of others, becoming a part of your legacy.
—a lasting testament to your indomitable spirit and
the mark you have left behind.

Discovering the art of truthfulness, as I rest on my bedside, I discover myself surrounded by a cushion filled with falsehoods, where it lies. It's a constant struggle not to shed tears, for my eyes are always overflowing with pools of emotions, drowning away any possibility of finding the inspiration of this word, “beauty”.

My empty gaze, incapable of hiding a disguise, hates the shallow beauty standards that society imposes. We often find ourselves falling aside, overshadowed by the captions that emphasize our flaws,—                 much like the petals that gracefully descend to the ground.

Even when people assert that true beauty resides within,                         life has a way of reflecting our insecurities, mirroring uncertainties and fears. I would sleep for a thousand days, just to dream of a better world,— a world that would regard me as their, “Sleeping beauty."

No, no, no...instead I will awaken to confront another day, on my own terms and standard. And I  bet the world would have plenty to say, but so few are their words, for me to let them spoil my mood today.

           I am beautiful!

The night employs its workers after eight,
creating an atmosphere where individuals seek to escape
their mundane routines and indulge in a thrilling experience.

For one man, this nocturnal venture is
an attempt to buy time, to savor each moment of
a good time and escape the pressures of daily life.
Intentionally avoiding personal connections, he finds solace
in the nameless encounters shared throughout the night—
a world where the unknown pasts of both parties remain shrouded, not wanting to delve into the parts of each other
that we prefer to keep hidden.

Within the night's enchanting embrace, there is a woman
who possesses innocence and curiosity, although her legs
bear the weight of experiences accumulated.
She possesses the wisdom gained through countless encounters,
manifesting in the act of lighting a cigarette after moments of intimacy, letting the smoke billow upward to silently erase the tales of the night.

Her actions portray a yearning for something more,
as she continuously summons another night, effortlessly
dialing for the next thrilling adventure.

Yet, as we reflect upon the distinction between a mere
night out and genuine love, we realize the striking
similarities between the two.
Both demand a significant investment of our time, resources,
and emotions.

We willingly pour ourselves into each pursuit, striving to
stay entertained and maintain appearances.

The other hand is an ongoing exchange, where we pay to experience the thrill of a secret night, concealing our desires behind closed doors and hidden rendezvous.

In this clandestine world, we navigate the blurred boundaries between escapism and genuine connection.
The night becomes an arena for fleeting passions and borrowed moments of exhilaration, a space where we can momentarily indulge our desires and find solace in the darkness.
As we surrender ourselves to the allure of the night, we gradually become entangled in a web of undisclosed experiences, trading our time and resources for the secrets
that unravel after dusk.

I live to breathe, I breathe then seek;
to seek my dream.

I dream for one, and pray to one God for all;
for all who breathe.

I breathe to live, to live my worth, the worth
of time, and how it's spent.

I spent my days on the prayers I long to send;
I'll send out the message written in my heart.

I write with my heart, and never miss a beat;
still I beat myself when I'm not myself.

And by myself, I could never find a reason to breathe.

Roses are red, the ones that won't grow by my heart,
they evoke a sense of longing and unfulfilled desires.
Delicate petals, once vibrant and full of life, now lay dormant,
mirroring the dormant feelings within. All a bittersweet
reminder that emotions, like flowers, have a finite lifespan.

I'm tending my blue, in the violence of my eyes,
as turbulent as the crashing waves on a stormy night.
The storm brewing within me has fueled a relentless pursuit of
dreams, propelling me forward despite the obstacles that stand
in my way.

With determination and resilience, I push forward,
believing that the next turn of the century will bring
new beginnings and endless possibilities.

I had a tenfold of wishful thinking, my mind
consumed by thoughts of what could be.
Each night, I found myself wondering if my prayers had
reached the celestial gardens of Heaven, where they might be
nurtured and grow into reality. It was a hopeful plea, a desperate
attempt to manifest my deepest desires and find solace
in the belief that someone or something was listening.

In my quest for fulfillment, I planted a piece of gold in
the grounds of time, a symbol of optimism and abundance.
It represented not just material wealth, but also the invaluable treasures of love, happiness, and purpose. I yearned for a worthwhile time to be alive, where every moment was infused with meaning and each day held the promise of fulfillment.