I write about grief which is like a container for many feelings of hopelessness. I am writing as if we stand on a high plateau, where grief can soar. So often, we get painted into small corners, hidden behind walls of shame, into isolation, and patronized.
The reality is we are bold to face the world with uncertainty about ourselves and each other. We feel the presence of the smooth, cool creek flowing deeper than its dimensions. The raven's caw, breaking the silence on a cold morning, feels like a welcome message. The grey skies have an inspiring grip while the rain is a healing soundscape.
It's within all these details we feel a multitude of presences; a lost dog, remnants of a friendship, a brighter version of ourselves, a half painted mural, everything we have lost to get here now.
It's harder to get lost in yourself when you carry the fragments of your memories somewhere with vast, endless scenery and breathe with confidence that you can see your winding paths.
To that intentional person i know The delicate sun flower hidden behind the thick forest In a wood of carcass Cheers to your true intentions For seeing beyond the shores... I know to you, its more than just words Every uttrance has an ulterior motive
You suffered betrayal at a young age, Now you're gobsmacked by the first act of kindness Life is never fair you believe
My dear! Its time! Time to stop your insecurities from driving For you're firece and pre-determined Indeed life is short, so live it Live while you still exist, and exist while you still live Take those risks, for they just might be your big win
Remember! Your help lies outside the four walls of your home. You need to seek it! Valour are not just a word of vigor, You need to act it! Live to learn and learn to live To survive, you have to strive. So let that sink! The accolades comes when you get to the top Be the cheerleader of your little wins For nothing tops little sgin that show your work in progress. You need to believe it. And try to win, before life wins For in the end, it still does.
Note to first, me. Then every other person out there. There is more to live, as much as there is nothing in it.
It is hard to tell sugar and salt mixture apart by merely glancing or touching. I wish I could master the art of segregating them without any arduous chemical process.
According to wikiHow, one may assess the grain sizes of salt and sugar. But they too, acknowledge that table salt and granulated sugar do look very similar; the differences in these 2 is minute.
Option 2: Acquire a sieve sized in between the 2 grain sizes so as to let the salt through. However, this method is clearly not fool proof since not all salt and sugar grain is of the same size. A salt granule could mask itself.
The best way to separate salt and sugar is by adding absolute alcohol to the mixture as only the sugar will dissolve, salt is insoluble in alcohol. Then after, proceed to evaporate or boil off the sugar and alcohol solution and you will be left with salt.
Much like in life, it requires more than looking or tactility to tell between genuine and the pseudo. It takes time, takes processes and occurrences. I once more wish I could distinguish them easily.
Then again, as much as I am grateful for the sugars in my life, excessive amount of sugar isn't all that good for the health. Salt heightens the sweetness of sugar; it teaches me to appreciate sugar better. More importantly, salt, to a moderate amount, does good to the body too.
As such, I am grateful for both the sugar and salt in my life. Sugar provides a sense of joy, while salt is vital for personal growth.
To all the ones who didn’t make it, Tell me are you finally at peace? Did the weight of the world truly leave you be? I’m simply asking because I am one of the ones who did make it And wonder what would have happened if I didn’t make it? Has the addiction to be perfect stopped eating you from the inside out? Or the need to please everyone, by now surely that drive must no longer be around? To all the ones who didn’t make it, tell me it got easier? What about the voices, the voices in your head that could never be drowned out, the voices that always told you “you’d never be good enough” for the love of god tell me they finally listened, tell me they finally shut up? And are you still able to feel numb to all the hurt? That you don’t have to fight the cravings any longer? Tell me, tell me there is no harm to just giving in? Tell me, tell me please To all the ones who didn’t make it, tell me how it was worth it? Or would you rather ask me first? Would you rather ask me how warm the sun feels on a lazy august afternoon? Because you can’t seem to remember what that feels like any longer Or if the roses still bloom with the promise to smell sweet and to bring the honey bees around? You’re starting to forget what they look like What about chocolate you ask, is it still known to melt in your mouth and bring a smile to your face? At least that is what you think the rumours you heard say And is laughter with loved ones truly contagious? It’s been a while since you’ve done it yourself You go on to ask about blue skies and cozy rainy days Old teachers that made you fall in love with learning and the ones you’re happy you’ve forgotten about We discuss friendships new and old and how far they’ve come sadly in your absence And when I’ve answered all your questions you finally agree to answer mine But I simply smile and say, To all the ones who didn’t make it, may you please forget I ever asked?
Oh Darling, look at what you've done Believed the tall tails of boys instead of the female at your feet But why would you when you have an ego that towers over the David? And you thought it was silly that I gifted you the name Michelangelo I couldn't have picked more right You though have forgotten that I am a master piece of my own creation, sculpted by none other but my own hands and never appreciated by yours And my sweet Michelangelo, if you think to call yourself my muse then you are nothing more than a fool For everything I have been through has led to my life's legacy My family chiselled out the shape My childhood chipped away at the detail And men like you did nothing more than carve in the finishing touches I am a beauty in my own right And as always too much for some to handle, and never fully understood by the rest But still she will live on through the ages So the next time darling that you fall confused, I implore you to simply ask the master herself And you would come to realize that this artist was far too focused on creating to let anyone interfere with her work
sparklers are for the people who love more than they could ever be loved in return, for the ones who exhaust extinguish their own light for others to only appreciate them for a moment and then be forgotten, for those who run out in rainstorms for people who won’t even stay with them in the sunshine, for the ones who wait until everyone around them is shining before they ignite their light and glow. but you can’t live by just borrowing love for an instant or living with the ashes of other’s achievements; you die a fresh death every time you listen to those voices that crash down on you like hail until you’re too numb to move you’re too over it to try you’re too cold to ignite at all.
everyone wants to improve me with self help videos and pithy advice on diet exercise mental health wealth meditation 10 reasons to own a cat 15 reasons why dog owners are happier 5 books I must read before I die (bit dramatic) 10 places to visit before my demise I don't have time for perfection envisage some great plan for my own re-creation don't really see what's wrong being shabby ******* up and writing **** poems