There seem so rare. It's just been two real years of struggle in a reality that murks black and white. Rare moments where inspirational words appear reassures and keeps you strong.
The fear of being misunderstood or making mistakes. Does it make us any weaker or merely more human?
Success speaks of sacrifices and discipline. Or many errs with the faith of getting one right. Yet the true meaning of success is only understood by so few. The human self cannot help but falls an occasional victim to childish leisures and material beauty. Or should we indulge?
Is life but just a long revolutionary road of practiced rituals with a signal of or attaining Man defined perfections such as financial freedom? Yet after the self deprivation acts for perhaps a little more than half your lifetime, will you finally grasp the goal only to search for another?
Or is the one true most precious thing in life the meaning of your existence?To make change where it matters. To love those who need. To support those in struggles.
I would love to write again.....
