Even In The Loveliest Days

They say that all you have to do is to attract the positive energy of the universe and all will unfold before your eyes without you even noticing how you’ve become some sort of a wishing well that crafts well wishes in to reality.

They say that the universe is linked to who you are as you are its fabric. The very skin that houses your soul is an accumulation of all of the beautiful stardusts that were once part of a big and beautiful nebula.

They say that if you wish for something, hard enough that you could almost already taste it, whatever your wish was, it will be.

They have said so much yet all we know is that we are almost always at the mercy of some force that controls and weaves the threads of our so-called destinies.

That force being so erratic, we can never really tell.

All we have are these pocketfuls of wishful thoughts and prayers that selfishly manifested themselves inside our human little minds, incapable of so much yet never enough, on several sleepless nights.

I have always known that some force is at work yet sometimes I feel like I am almost always at its mercy. Begging, kiss-assing, slaving myself with the weight of the dreams and wishes placed upon the fragile little shoulders of that 5 year old girl who wished for something more.

The thought of that “something more” is lethal.

There is always something worth believing in to and you can never be too sure as to whether or not the gods of fate will choose to crystalize it and give it to you as you are but a child to the eyes of the mighty forces.

And sometimes, even when you sincerely pray for the realization of the dreams you relentlessly mouth inside the churches you visit, the mighty forces choose to snatch every single bit hope there is left inside your mortal heart that could feel so much yet it could never fully understand what it feels.

How long will I have to believe, or maybe the proper question to ask is how long will I have to be deceived?

By the power that modern day psychology force feeds you with?

That you can take on anything as long as you believe that it could  materialize before your eyes like magic?

Should I keep on believing or should I surrender the dreams on to the hands of whoever and let the wild current of life take me wherever it wishes to take me?

There is a battle between control and surrendering.

I have always been so in control of everything and now that I am braving through the slashes of the winds of failure and disappointment, must I continue this painful journey?

I can always stop.

I know that.

I’ve seen people do that and boy did they let the tides of fate carry them to places I dare not visit!

Does bravery account for having control or does it account for letting go?

How does one become brave?

I have no idea at all, and I’m awfully sad to say that I have never been so disappointed by myself ever.

I know that the past few years have been fruitful but why does defeat taste so overwhelming that all I have left is but a faint taste of the successes that catapulted me in to where I am now?

A nebula must collapse before the birth of a new star and I hope that I am a nebula, and that this, all of this, is just the crunch before the birth.

Before my rebirth

For even in the loveliest days of the girl who claims that she gets what she wants, there are slivers of deaths and defeats in between.

For even the brightest of stars have violent deaths before they knew that they could glow.

I guess, for now, that’s all that I have to know.

Inspired by post of Berlin-Artparasites

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