I Me Myself

What was the start of all this? When did the cogs of fate begin to turn? Perhaps it is impossible to grasp that answer now, From deep within the flow of time... But, for a certainty, back then, We loved so many, yet hated so much, We hurt others and were hurt ourselves... Yet even then, we ran like the wind, Whilst our laughter echoed, Under cerulean skies...

Friday, June 13, 2008

Day 2 of Block Leave

It is my perception that a true friend never relies on another’s dream. A person with the potential to be my true friend must be able to find his reason for life without my help. And, he would have to put his heart and soul into protecting his dream. He would never hesitate to fight for his dream, even against me. For me, a true friend is one who stands equal on those terms.

A dream can support a man’s life or make him suffer. A dream can make a man feel alive, and kill him as well. Even if a man is abandoned by that dream, part of it will remain to smolder deep within his heart. Every man should visualize his own life in this way, at least once. Living as a martyr for God in the name of a dream.

While many dreams can be pursued in solitude, some dreams are like storms, blowing apart hundreds or thousands of other dreams as they go.

A dream can hold supremacy over the world for one who dedicates his entire life to forging only a single sword.

But I believe that a man can find another, more precious thing, before those… something one pursues for one’s own sake, and not for the sake of any other. A dream.

Love Can Kill, but Hate Can Never Save.

History is much like an endless waltz. The three beats of war, peace, and revolution continue forever.

The hopes you see, while in the realm of slumber are called dreams.
Who knows where the wind that scatters flowers calls it home. Show me that place and I will sate my anger.
Everything disappears. People, words. . . even feelings.
Flowers of the cherry blossom bloom and fall, even as you watch. So it is with all those who quickly become no more.
How bitter it is, that all I can do now is wait and wait, even when all my feelings inside me are like scenes of dusk.
If this is not the end of oblivion, then I shall live everyday as if my life were to end on this very day.

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