31 May 2012
by Its.Sally
in Fiction is reality in disguise., Life stories.
One day she decided to ask him : ”Have you ever asked yourself what matters? If what you do matters? If your existence matters? Or are you just consuming oxygen and producing carbon dioxode? ” ”You know, even the plants and trees take carbon dioxide and produce oxygen, they matter”, she added. ”I do ask myself these questions, constantly. And I’ve got the answers, but I never do anything about it. I’m like the stars in the night sky, I see everything around, I realize, but I never move,” He sneered. ”So you do want to be the hero of your own life story but instead you are the coward standing motionless aganist your will behind your own reflection? ” She wondered. ”Yes, it’s like I became as useless as an old book on the shelf, surrounded by dust, forgotten, although it was and still is full of information – but it’s not fighting back the circumstances of nature,” he explained. ”And by nature you mean life, right ?” She asked. And with silence he replied. Too much is going on in his head right now, with this fake smile of him, she thought. I know him, she whispered to herself. ”See, you always complain about your house being hunted, but what you don’t realize is that it’s hunted by you, you are the living ghost”, she said. ”The human beings are diveded into 2 groups ; People who are living being dead or not yet born, and people who are living”, she added then left. ———————-
Sally.
26 Apr 2012
by Its.Sally
in Life stories., Wander/wonder
Tags: Life, Thoughts
The world is many things
And one thing of the things is a ‘subway’
The world is a subway
People get in and people get out
The subway is moving, with or without you
Life is the subway
The subway moves fast. So fast, faster than the pendulum swings, faster than the time needed for light to travel
Some people think that they still have many stations, but that is just a delusion.
The period you spend in the subway is short
Shorter than short.
But it is a test that you have to take.
Whether you will solve it or just let time pass away, and leave it empty
What you do in the subway, your deeds, are what count. What matters.
So do you realize ?
Can you imagine your last station which you have no idea when or where it is ?
Are you ready ?
Would you be ready to get out of the subway?
Can you picture it?
Are you afraid ?
Some live with the thought that they will stay in the subway forever.
Not realizing that the whole subway doesn’t even matter, they enjoy,party, make wrong choices, hate, deceive, waste
They forget about the good, about the deeds, about the faith,about the love, about peace
They forget about what they will face after graduating from the last station, from the test, form the school
The forget about the result; HEAVEN AND HELL.
I don’t know how can they not realize
I don’t know how they can forget, or ignore, for even a second.
Don’t they know?
Don’t they know that the last station comes in a blink of an eye?
Don’t they know?
Don’t they realize that the world is a subway?
Sally.
09 Apr 2012
by Its.Sally
in Beautiful things., Life stories.
Tags: Life
He was walking on the shore, watching the foam, listening to the sound of the crashing waves to heal his aching soul. He walked and walked leaving his footprints, knowing that the tide will erase them, knowing that the wind will blow the foam, but he could not care less, as long as the sea and shore will remain forever, that’s enough for him, that’s what matters to him.
And he decided to take that thought and apply it for everything he does in his life, he found a way to live.
09 Apr 2012
by Its.Sally
in Life stories., Thats my mind writing what it feels, and my heart writing what it thinks., Wander/wonder
Tags: Life
The phenomenon of how some people control other people
How some people think they’re the best when they’re the worst
The phenomenon of how some people play games on each other
How they manipulate
Hurt
Lie and judge and cheat and even sometimes beat one another
The phenomenon of how people make you wait
Make you shake and sometimes break
How some people might even turn you into a slave / not necessarily the literal meaning of that word
You know what’s funny at the end of the day?
It’s how you get paid for your kindness and good heart by people taking advantage of that and repaying you with treatment which only benefits their own good, which benefits THEM, regardless of what they do to you.
Strange how many people you act like a human being to, and they act like monsters to you in return.
I find it kinda funny and I find it kinda sad.
The world is, mad.
06 Apr 2012
by Its.Sally
in Beautiful things., Life stories., Wander/wonder
The boy was standing in his balcony
With a heart full of melancholy
A bird suddenly came and sang to him
And the boy was amazed because he understood every word
But what if the bird was crying not singing? The boy wondered
How do we know? The boy asked; the birds only have the same sound
They cry and sing with the same melody
But there was a hidden message of what happened;
The boy was smart enough to understand it
The bird wanted to teach him how to be happy even when sad
How to sing even when mad
How to cry with grace
How to fly despite the weight of the things he holds in his heart and soul
The bird was trying to tell him how to cope
So the man he is today, was because of the lessons the bird taught him, that day, when he was just a boy.
He decided to listen to everything, since that day, because everything in life, is trying to tell us something.
He decided to be smart enough to listen, not just hear.
The end.
05 Apr 2012
by Its.Sally
in Beautiful things., Wander/wonder
Tags: Life, Love, Thoughts
The moon offered to come down and sit with me for a while,
Because of the feeling I’ve been feeling recently
But I refused,
Because I know that the moon is the source of light for many lonely people out there,
Or even for the crowd, not certainly the lonely
Some people are friends with the moon,
They talk with him, they wish upon him,
They mourn to the moon
The moon is their best loyal friend
They smile at him and they can feel him smile back,
The moon pours down its love in the cracks in the inner core of people
The moon pours its light in those cracks
The moon listens
The moon feels
The moon smiles
The moon understands
The moon has stories of many people
The moon holds many people
The moon is the father of the stars
The moon is the mother of the sky
So how dare I take the moon ?
It belongs to us all.
I love you, moon.
I can hear the moon when it mours, I help him, too.
I hug the moon with my heart, with my eyes, I whisper to him with my soul, and he always listens.
I love the clouds, I love the stars, I love this world above the skies
It has my people, up there, they exist, in peace, safe from this world we have here
There are more things above than all what we have here on earth.
03 Apr 2012
by Its.Sally
in Death - memories, Poetry
So I run, I run to the wardrobe, I grab the family album
I run madly, at moments like this, my mind goes dead, them is only what I see.
I ran and grabbed the album, like how an addict runs to take the heroine or whatever
I ran and opened it
I opened it and stared
I stared and cried from the inside
I cried from the inside and ached
I ached and I felt awful
I felt awful and felt that life is meaningless
Meaningless without them
Without them what I do has no taste
Taste that is bitter
Bitter and only the memories are the sweet things
I opened it and looked at all of us
All of us was gone but me and mom
Me and mom are the only left ones
The ones who are trying to cope
To cope even if its been years
Its been years but it still feels the same,
Feels the same or maybe even hurts more
Hurts more and we try to embrace more
More and more until we learned how to hide everything we feel
When we go somewhere I know what she and me think and feel
We feel how wonderful and blessed those who are sitting with their families
And I don’t know how would some families hate or fight with each others
They don’t know the bless of having people around you
Around you who care and love you
Maybe they are just bad people
But mine were good people
Not good people ; the best people
People who are kind and beautiful
Beautiful that could fill everywhere they go to with their beauty
Beauty that was capable of lighting any dark
And now the light is gone
And the words are done.
And I am back to being me, the mad moment has passed away.
I’m back to aching in silence, to enduring, to trying to do something good with my life.
Obscure clarity is what I see.
And I kneel down and pray / and God gives me the strength to keep going on my way.
Thankful – I am.
Bitter – I am not – never.
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