Words can walk through a million thousand miles, words can travel into the depth of space, all that it would take is someone to listen, someone to read, someone to understand.
You need to learn to be able to stand on your own, without nobody, because it ain’t everytime that you’d get a shoulder to rest on, sometimes all you get is a cold shoulder and the sound of footsteps going faraway from you.
Once you learn to stand by yourself, to be strong alone, trust me or not it’s not easy, for most of us, but once you achieve that, it’s the best present you could ever give yourself, because when you are sitting on your bed all alone, in your room, and you ain’t got nobody to talk to or even to chat with , you are all by yourself surrounded by this four corners whatever they maybe or maybe you are just enjoying nature, you know the beach or somewhere far away all alone in the forest, and it’s just you and yourself, that counts as somebody too🤭, you may feel a croak in your heart, or just a feeling of emptiness, it happens to best of us😅.. and it may be the worst feeling in the world atimes , just know that there once was a little cactus that grew in the dessert, all by itself, without company except for the hot reminder of the sun and the cold moon rays, it was all by itself but that cactus grew, it may not have been the most beautiful tree , but it grew , stood strong all on it’s own.
Being alone isn’t a bed of roses, but when you have no choice but to be by yourself, stand strong, sometimes you are just that lone cactus, in the dessert all by yourself… With the harsh sun smiling at you. Stay strong and grow well.
Even when we would be miles away, apart from one another, with no remembrance of each other, without the sound of our own voices, void of the people we knew so well, We should always remember that as long as we are under the same moon, one day our paths shall cross.
I love mama Coco, but sometimes she speaks like an old monk, I nod my head and agree with her but deep down I have no slime of faith in what she said.
The thing about mama Coco is, she always knew how to make me feel better, her words may be absolutely not true, but they always came with a suiting and calm wind, almost as if the heavens agreed with her.
Years had passed after that evening, I had moved to the city, away from the tiny village of Mirakusa, I was working and earning a good sum, I had forgotten that evening , infact it was the last thing I would think about, it was so many years ago, I didn’t even remember what lead to that conversation.
I was working home one fine evening, now that I remember, it looked like that very evening (chuckles) when mama Coco talked, I was carrying a little bag by my side, I don’t know why I didn’t take my car that day but I just didn’t feel like it that day. Another bonus was my work place wasn’t too far from my home, and it was relatively safe so I had nothing to fear even though it was already late.
I hummed quietly into the night, whistling and humming, a cold breeze was blowing almost like the angel of death had descended. The pathway was pretty much empty, but I didn’t mind, I liked the quiet and serene environment, I don’t still remember what caused it, but as I got under the Cherry blossom tree, and caught sight of the moon peeping out among the branches, a strong wind blew and petals fell, it was truly a beautiful scene, until I fell flat on my face. I felt a strange sense of deja vu, as I struggled to get on my feet, a hand reached out to me and I unconsciously took on to it and rised up, dusting myself and picking my bag up , a cherry blossom petal fell on my face, I searched my face to peel it off, and I heard a melodious chuckle, yet again another wave of deja vu.
“you haven’t changed one bit” the voice said and as I looked up to identify the face under the moon rays, I saw COCO
I looked up to the moon and I chuckled, now that I remember, I recall mama Coco , she did always say;
“As long as we are under the same moon, one day our parts shall cross”
– short scenes by Lia.
💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕
The message simply is, it doesn’t matter how long has gone by, or what has happened. It doesn’t matter the distance nor the time, but if you hold on true enough, as long as we are under the same moon our paths shall cross someday, you may not realize it when it will happen, or you may not even be there, but hold on, one day , it will happen.
Death is like a trap that we are bound to fall into, life is a net that we are bound to struggle in, they both leave us with no choice but it’s good to be able to find one, no matter how small. We are the players , the game is already set and programmed, now the controls are in our hands.
Life is no good at all, it’s complicated, it’s treacherous, it’s wicked, mysterious, frustrating, unfair, magnimous , dreadful , it’s a box decorated beautifully with thorns and roses, magnificent and bogus, so good that it’s easy to forget the thorns that are very much visible, it’s trickery, and a master at that. Now many would ask , should we rather die, and end this?
Hahahahahaha( laughs manically) die, death, end….
😏 Hahahahaha🤣🤣🤣
*hmphs… 🖤
Death is even more complicated, more mysterious, more wretched, more dreadful, promising a end to suffering and pain, a stop to trickery and false, a bargain with the devil to grant you freedom, or perhaps a ticket to eternal rest, never to be heard from again, to be forgotten and left only in minds that have little space for each day new inputs come into place, enticing and hopeful for an unknown that seems to explain itself so we’ll it’s vague. It promises to end and put a stop to life’s uncertain ways, but fails to show the uncertainty in itself, cause who knows what happens after death, not many, I dare to say one in a billion or none at all.
Yet Archer died, or more so killed himself, embracing death with open arms, so at least he would be able to forget how his wife and children died in a plane crash, how he has lost his job and life no longer smiles on him, he has chosen to forget the times when he felt life was worth living, or perhaps the cow no longer can be milked therefore the farmer kills himself, for lack of hope thereof, still in mind that there are many cows still left in life to be milked or maybe the milk from that cow was too special to live without.
The contrast is not to be unnoticed, Hadley dies in the plane crash and Archer kills himself, one embraces death like a mother and child long reunited. The other is slapped on the face by it’s sudden appearance, not given a chance to rewind.
I dare to say LIFE and DEATH are both thornful and promising, I dare to say that both LIFE and DEATH ‘both must co-exist’ side by side because one can not be without the other. Call it a faux or an intuition but I don’t want to imagine one without the other, as it would be more than dreadful.
It does not matter which one is seen to be better, white or black, for Archer, death must have been an Angel ready to pluck him away from this dreadful life that he had to live in, for Hadley, death may have been a demon plucking her from the wonderful life she was living. Whether she had accepted it or not, whether he had liked it or not, death had come and gone taking it’s price along, with a stupid grin on it’s face, rejoicing for the new souls it had reaped. Life could do nothing but sigh and reproduce, for each life death hath taken another he had given, truly there be no guarantee for this new soul that had come to be, there is no promise for a life of bliss but he hath been given a chance to live, and for what he gets, and what he takes and what he accepts, time will tell, but when death comes knocking again, the circle continues, for no man is assured time, but a surprise it may be to some , but death for sure is inevitable, that much is assured.
Hey 👋 people, hope all is well?this writing is quite deep don’t you think😍, I felt a surge of power and emotions while writing this. And the main inspiration behind this writing which i wrote in exactly less than an hourafter finishing the book ‘ In 27 days ‘ is the book itself, although the book centers on saving someone from commiting suicide , I felt a lot of emotions while reading it, and that led to this write up, the book , had been published and made into a movie which hopefully one day I will watch and buy a copy, but for now I read it on wattpad and I love it, one of my favorites so far. I hope you enjoy this small , short piece of writing, do tell me your thought in the comment box. Thank you. ☺️
You don’t like the hand that faith has dealt you…. Fight for a better one.
Surrounded by darkness… Shine through the thick coat of it.
Let the shackles fall, let the chains break, let the ropes cut loose, let the binds be sized up, and destroyed.
Someone: I wish there could be peace, without all the pointless killing, imagine what the world would be if there was no pointless bloodshed, but we should ask, is the bloodshed really all that pointless, do we need bloodshed for the world to be balanced, I doubt I can answer that since I have never felt a world without bloodshed, the only one I have ever known are those written in fairy tales. Those ones that we can only ever dream of, those ones that exist in the far dillusioned mind of a sower of imagination of wonder’s never seen except in his otherworldly mind….
It takes you, to fight for your right, your hope, your freedom, your choice, it take determination and a burning hate for the chains and shackles to be free… You alone can do it, but if you have got more people, then heaven blesses you.
In my previous post, I wrote about not being understood and not being able to understand myself. But today, I think I have been able to put the pieces together.
I figured that maybe all I ever wanted is someone who will love me only. It’s being selfish but I think all I ever want is for me to be remembered.
Maybe I never want to be forgotten. All I want is for that one person who could never live without me to never forget me.
I figured that the day I never wake up is the day, the whole world cries and remember the good I’ve done. But maybe I’m not interested in that, all I want is for that one person to never forget me.
I want to be described as someone who lived freely, one who cared and loved, one who accepted people for who they were. Like me or not.
The truth is I’m afraid of dying, I’m afraid of death in general. But lately I learnt maybe I’m only scared because it may happen too soon, and maybe I haven’t done enough to be solely remembered by that someone.
I want someone who wouldn’t be able to live without me, someone who lives for me in every second and every breath. Maybe that’s why I close in on the world, on people around me, maybe that’s the reason why a frown is my natural look and my smile is rare.
Maybe it’s all because I’m yet to be sure of who deserves to truly know me. And maybe it’s because I’m scared that if I love anyone too much, they’d hurt me or wouldn’t love me the way I love them. But then again I do it, I love so much I’m scared I’m going to lose myself. I’m scared one day they may just stop loving me. I’m scared of losing them.
If you’ve ever loved someone or felt like I do then I’m thinking you should know I picture the future with them in it. I want to be a part of their pain and happiness and I want them to be part of mine Also. But yet again, I’m Scared. I’m scared the future as something else planned or maybe something may just happen and I’ll never feel the same way for them again. I’m scared because maybe I’ve felt something different in the past, for someone else and it ended up not like I thought it would.
This time I feel so different, this feeling is very different and unique. I’m physically and emotionally attracted to them, it’s like we are intertwined though I’m pretty much sure they may not feel same. Maybe I’m sidelined or distracted sometimes, but I always find my thoughts wondering back to them. It’s either in my dreams or my thoughts when I watch movies, or read books or even when I’m sad. Most times they are the reason why I’m sad and happy at the same time. It feels so good and yet I feel insecure. I feel maybe one day, they may just feel for someone else and not me.
I’m scared of the future, and I’m scared of feelings as well. I told someone once that emotions are dangerous and I’m beginning to reason it. It’s so true. They are hard to read or decipher. It’s different in every person and it could also change like the weather conditions. Sometimes I feel my heart is cooking up a storm, and I feel it could all just disappear one day.
They say change is inevitable but I just pray so much that we never change. But still time changes every thing. I feel my life as a movie, and very anxious to see the ending, and so again I’m scared because it may not be what I pictured or planned. Fate has a way of working it’s things, but then again I wish I could write my own.
A certain little girl once told me that we write our own destiny but I don’t think it’s true. I feel it has all been destined and no matter how much we try, we can never change it. I know I’m running faster than time itself but I just want to see where it all ends. I know it’s better to live in the moment but yet again, I’m desperately waiting for it. I’m anxious to know if they’d be in my life then or maybe I’ll feel differently towards them. I’m unsure but I really want to know.
Enough words or phrases can’t put in enough of how I feel or what I’m feeling. My senses choose to promise forever with or without them in it but yet again my heart is josling within, whether or not.
Yet again, I positively assure myself that I can be anything I dream. I choose to be a shooting star when I look into my heart. I choose to believe in me and in them, I choose to believe in forever. Whatever it leads, I’m promising we’d get through it together, with or without.
I pray for happiness and peace of mind, in my forever. I choose to die only when I’m fulfilled, when it’s truly my time. When I’m not scared anymore but when I’ve mastered the art of living with dying, because that’s where it all ever ends.
And again, I wish it has you in it. I genuinely hope it does.
23. I love you so much. 05. Still love me too. 20. Stop trying too hard, maybe afterall we are fine. 20. You’ll forever be enough🤞
Food, clothe, and money, we can’t live without it, but it’s not that important too. It’s not as precious as fate that brought people together.
Regardless of how tall and big a chinese parasol tree, it will wither in late autumn.
Bringing a smile to her face, every time. That used to your thing, that was your seat but now you are gone, she can’t believe that you are gone so fast, she didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye. You are the life of the party and now you are gone, she is not as strong as you are.
If I was there, I would never let it happen. If only you hadn’t gone , if I had taken you there it wouldn’t have happened. If I had stopped you. If, if….. `√
If only, there are so many if’s, it’s endless to say.
If I could just impact one person, make them have a reason to smile, to live, then I think I have lived well enough. If I could just light up someone’s day, or even just make them happy from afar then I would feel fulfilled.
No matter the riches, every body is made of bones and skeletons, when we are dead and rottened , with dry bones, no one can tell who was once rich or beautiful, cherish yourself and those around you, no one is above the world, everything will crumble someday. Vanity upon countless vanity.
Hey guys, how are you doing…?… so… I learnt a new word today. It’s of the Japanese origin and pretty cool I must say. Wabi Sabi is the combination of the two respective words put together to coin a term.
Wabi is said to be defined as “rustic simplicity” or “understand elegance” with a focus on a less- is -more mentality. While Sabi is translated to taking “pleasure in the imperfect”.
Perfectionism, they say is a fairly innocuous word but I think it goes beyond that. The facts are it makes us miserable, neurotic, play heinous tricks on our psyche. But in general terms, it makes us sick, it makes ME sick.
It’s a dangerous game which on few occasions turns tragic. Won’t you have it a better way ? Am I good enough ? Don’t wear this, it makes you look fat. Don’t do that, people would talk and mock you. This are statements we all, once in a while, struggle with. I think it’s good to struggle with something you love, and maybe suffer to get it at its best but I find it hard and obsessive that people tell you that you ain’t good enough and most of us just go with it.
For instance, women or girls I’d say are inundated from an early age with ads and posters that gaunt, curved bodies are the ideal. Anything outside the perimeter of that ultra thin, half emaciated ideal is stamped as inferior, and thus, most of us go around dissatisfied with – or even ashamed – of our bodies. And thanks to this tyranny, many young talented girls are pushed to eating disorders, while a whole lot are pushed to aliments affiliated with excessive weight loss.
So finally I come up with my own observation, white girls use darker foundations, black girls be snacking around for creams that make them lighter, some want big lips and dark girls don’t like their fat nose. People start bleaching their lips pink – the so called ideal and others be waist training to have that perfect hourglass figure. Many starve in the name of weight loss training and some develop aliments like stomach cancer.
And for a taunt free life, many go about looking for perfections. It doesn’t only stop at changing the body image but moves on to infiltrating the whole personality.
Chasing after this elusive ideals : where does it come from ? Who can we blame for the tormenting power of perfectionism that blights our peace of mind ? Our parents ? Our culture ? Our super-egos ? Maybe. But here, I’m going to be blaming Plato. Yes, Plato. Afterall he was the philosopher who brought about the foundation for Western civilization that drew perfection with it. Plato taught us through the Socrates how to think critically and examine live. True he did us a favour but I’m starting to think it was a monster in disguise.
You know it’s easy to blame others for the mistakes we ourselves are the breeder of. But today I’m going to blame you, you,you…… And me, not Plato. Plato, himself may have brought the idea of perfection but he also thought of every imperfection as a great deal of uniqueness.
And that’s where wabi sabi comes in. Richard Powell, in a book, explains wabi sabi as nurturing all that is authentic by acknowledging three realities; nothing lasts, nothing is finished and nothing is perfect.
So like the Japanese would say, why not ask what that person beside you wants, or what that friends really wants to wear to the party or even try to compliment that look before ever criticising their decisions or views. It’s their life afterall.
There’s beauty in our differences, like the different notes of a chord of music, each notes with its own integrity – together spilling out into the air in clusters of colour, in turn together we make the colours of the rainbow.
I live my life in a widening circle, as a beautiful garden where rocks and flowers grow aside.
– Rike (poet)
The day we choose to love our unfinished selves, our bodies, our works, our behaviours, personalities, or relationships – all in their natural “imperfections” and unique differences is the day we become truly happy.
So dear you, my wonderful reader, you have gotten this far and got alittle bored on the way but we reached our destination. All I have to say is love you always, because you will never abandon you. You are just simply imperfect and unfinished like the rest of us but cheer up. Even as we declare you to be flawed, we pronounce you ever beautiful.
Happy wabi-ing sabi-ing, I totally made that up😆 lolzz.
There are many people in this world, there are those who can’t see, those who can’t hear, there are those who can’t walk, there are those who are degenerates and abnormal to others, and then there is me, and you and many many other people.
There are orphans, there are homeless people, there are people who don’t have anything but family, there are people who don’t have family, there are people who had family, there are people who wished they had family, there are many people and then there is you and I.
There is a popular adage or stereotype that good people always die, it’s quite ironic but everyone dies someday right? But I get it, they die before their time, not that I know what anyone’s time is supposed to be. But I get it in a way. Amelia is a woman, she loved, she gave and she just did life right, I guess😅! The point is she was good, but then one night she got robbed and raped and left to bleed out, and then there is you and I
I often asked God, why? And I have heard that I shouldn’t, because God’s work and wonder’s shouldn’t be questioned. But I end up doing it anyway, I just think he has the answer to everything so why won’t he tell me, why won’t he explain to me why Amelia had to be treated that way after all that she did, I don’t think she deserved it, not that anyone deserves it, but why? Why Amelia? Why not some bad person that deserves it. But I also know something, I don’t deserve to be answered, because I am just a human being, who am I to stand in front of the most high, and question him about the ways of men? Who am I? Who are you? I can answer those two… No one!
Winter I love winter, I have never experienced true winter with the snow and all, but I have felt the rain. Someone once said that winter gave the feeling of sadness and loneliness, while spring and summer gives life and brightness. I love all seasons but none more than winter, I love the way it can get calm and cold, serene and chilly, I love that. And maybe sometimes I love to be alone, all by myself to cry and read a book, to have a cup of hot coco, and just enjoy every breath that I take. Then there is you.
I am the least perfect person I know. I don’t know about you but I have so many flaws I think I may be a good flosser😊… But if there is one thing I know and am definitely sure off, you and I are loved, not something I am saying based on assumption, it’s something I know. There is someone who absolutely loves us. You and I…
For now, I am going to share that love to all those other people, because someone chose to love me despite all my flaws, someone else also needs that love, and there is someone who can share it, You and I .
Gotten from other mouths, fallen into your ears, one unconsciously becomes the puppet for another, once taken to heart.
Human mind is sinister, as if a deep gorge, others have schemes to plot against your sincerity. Every injustice has its perpetrator.
What is the thing about Rumours that makes it more popular than the truth itself ? I think it’s the fact that they are exactly what people would like to hear, they are exotic almost surreal but people find it far more easier than the truth! Or perhaps it’s something to talk about, to get the conversation going, smooth and rickety.
Do rumours originate from the truth? Why not! If one thing is known, rumours aren’t especially the truth or a lie, they are rumours because they are in a waiting room to fall into the section of a truth or a lie. A rumour may just be the truth, or perhaps it’s a lie, but one thing is for sure, Rumour do originate from somewhere, from something, from someone.
Stay tuned for rumours, don’t always let them be a pillar for your reactions, because rumours aren’t reliable, they aren’t always the truth. Watch out… And stay true.
The sky never ends Nothing can change ones destiny as long as the heart remains true.
Can you really change your destiny? Is it possible to change your destiny? When you know you are going to die, is it possible to fight death. They say you can never fight death…. So maybe after all that is the only thing that we can’t overcome.
To someone you are the greatest, the best they have ever seen, there may be better but you are all that matters. It’s either the soul , the heart or the body, you choose which one you stripe energy from. Dreams aren’t easy to find, you see them playing for hour’s long, only to remember a glimpse when awoken, but the illusion that it creates is great and wonderful, just stay in that bubble and you’d be smiling forever. When it pops, you are back to what they call reality, the real world and all that you saw was just a minutes dillusion. Yes the pieces are shattered, broken even, impossible to gather perhaps.
In most stories, at the endings of many articles, the writer🤭 tells you to spread your wings , out wide, to feel the wind , in my hair, fluttering, spread them and fly😅…. But I’d like to add something more, or maybe just make a slight change. Spread your wings and dream, because you have a right to… Doesn’t matter who says otherwise, doesn’t matter who thinks otherwise, nothing else matters, for every once in a while live in that bubble, and let yourself dream.
I am an angel who sprouts wings behind closed doors, I can’t break every heart in my World just for you! -Zero
Pixie's blog 
You must be logged in to post a comment.