Sunday, 24 July 2011
There is a fear that grips me every time I clutch my pen to write. The anxiety that builds up makes me feel as though my spirits foundation is shaken and because of that, it wants to part from my body. As great as my heart feels it also bleeds.
I lay down so much emotion on paper, flooding it with words that would not have meaning to any reader if they were not laid down in strategic form. I see them post my act of releasing them from my mind on the animated faces of them that relate to the message that is bound in every constructed sentence. “A vision is owed to ancient past’s tales; the tapestry of tombs and wounds is the fabric that weaves these tin thoughts. I live to see my thoughts propagate through the silent thoughts of many and them that will quote how I spoke of my experiences and them that were not my own but paid a particular significance in my life at that particular time. Seas serenity’s not satisfying with comfort eluded in thoughts of inexplicable expression, presented in ecstasy which is evident in elevation. Yes, the high we consider as supernatural.” We tell stories but in essence we forget that the life that we have is a story in itself, but do I, for one, live like it is a story? The day offers 24 hours and I’m certain that this is enough time for at least a page.
The scripture just gives us a way to make things possible. It speaks in a universal language so that it cannot contradict itself when we all meet in the social world. Then God decided that He’ll give the world philosophers and all that speak positivity into being- you could be one too if you say the right thing at the right time to anyone that needs to hear it- making life a bit more interesting. Each and every day we dare to speak to the pure heavens with the turmoil that might be brewing inside of us, but we still do it because, believe it or not, someone somewhere said that you can do it if you just believe and wherever you were, YOU heard it and you believed it. This is where I found my marvel in words.
‘… words, had I not met you the day that I first spoke that One, MAMA, I would have searched for you in the virtue silence because the burning desire I have can only be yours, in every language spoken you are there, clearly the proof must have been found in the giggles of my infant state.’
Fascination in all things that we find some sort of magic in is what brings us closer to sanity in our minds that are of our own right, our own privilege. This in essence is a challenge for each and every individual to find their fascination and entertain it to the maximum which is the end of life, without intent, I have given you my own. WORDS.