The End
The end. Every beautiful story begins with an ending. Happy or sad, good or bad. The story we weave manifests what our hearts desire at a given moment in time.
From every decision springs a hope for a life of greater contentment that is the object of every afternoon’s daydream. It is the end that is the start of a new beginning, where everyone ought to stand on equal footing.
Every ending insinuates another chance to show the world what you got. It is the losing side’s second chance, the persistent person’s training ground, and the winning man’s gateway to a greater achievement.
The constancy of repetitions, from beginning to end, and from an ending to another beginning. That is how our life operates. Our life is just a series of endings and beginnings. A full circle. One life, different stories. Whether it would be a romance, a tragedy, or fantasy, depends on the person who holds the pen. You don’t consciously decide what’s going to happen next. Everything depends on the depth of your imagination, and on how firm you could stand for your beliefs.
“Begin with the end in mind.” Prepare yourself. It will all come down to it anyway. For end it may, end it will.
Did Someone Just Stole My Happiness Away?
Just when everything seems alright, a sudden feeling of emptiness hits you. I suddenly found myself swallowing and sighing and feeling so sad that I just want to forget about everything and just lay down and sleep. In reality, everything’s fine, but in my head everything just feels wrong. One moment I’m happy, but just a single remark, or something that I found somewhere, could instantly ruin my day. I honestly don’t feel like doing anything. Maybe I could just sleep the hours away and wake up feeling happy again. Or maybe not.
Someone just stole my happiness away today and I really feel bad about it. Real bad.
There it goes again.
" I used to think I was the strangest person in the world, but then I thought, there are so many people in the world, there must be someone just like me who feels bizarre and flawed in the same ways I do. I would imagine her, and imagine that she must be out there thinking of me too. Well, I hope that if you are out there and read this, know that, yes, it’s true, I’m here, and I’m just as strange as you.
Maybe Not
Maybe it’s me
Or maybe it’s the moon
That drowns with the tide my heavy heart
Maybe it’s me
Or maybe it’s the wind
That blows your name right through my head everytime
Maybe it’s the warm summer breeze
That keeps the thought of you alive in my every dream
Or the sound of the struck guitar string
That echoes your voice, I could almost hear you sing
Maybe it’s the sparkle of the stars
That reminds me of your eyes
Or the darkness of the night
That blinds me from what’s right
Maybe you are just as lost as what I have always been
Or maybe it’s just me.
Fairy Tale by Yiruma
Haaay ProdMan. I can already hear my stomach peacefully protesting… I honestly don’t see the relevance of doing this but for the sake of the final final exam I’ll set aside my stomach’s cries.
(Source: observando)
Bittersweet
We see the same sun rising
And breathe the same warm air
We stand on the same firm ground
And blanketed by the same bright stars
Yet we whisper different wishes
And hope different hopes
While you watch the world around you
I’m watching only you…
