Our individuality is all that we have, there are those that barter it for security, those who repress it for what they believe is the betterment of the whole society, but blessed in the twinkle of the morning star is the one who nutures it and rides it in grace and love and wit, from peculiar station to peculiar station along life’s bitter sweet route.
There is something in every one of you that waits and listens for the sound of the genuine in yourself. It is the only true guide you will ever have. And if you cannot hear it, you will all of your life spend your days on the ends of strings that somebody else pulls.
Life will never be perfect, no matter how hard you try. Even if you pour your heart and soul into it, you will never have that perfection you seek. There will always be broken hearts, there will always be days where nothing goes right. But I have accepted and learned that even the most imperfect things will always be made better with love, laughter, and joy.
I examine my own being, and find there a world, but a world rather of imagination and dim desires, than of distinctness and living power. Then everything swims before my senses, and I smile and dream while pursuing my way through the world.
I believe that suffering is part of the narrative, and that nothing really good gets built when everything’s easy. I believe that loss and emptiness and confusion often give way to new fullness and wisdom.