Because Equality

If you think about it, all our thoughts and morals and feelings are plagiarized as well. We are a product of what we hear, see, speak and learn. We pick and choose what we like best while the rest goes to deep recesses of our mind.

Someone, a long time ago, wrote the same words as me, albeit in a different format. That doesn't change the fact that we both reached the same conclusions. But the issue is that my thoughts were never uniquely mine. And in all honesty, I'm learning to deal with that.

~Me

“So, if you are too tired to speak, sit next to me for I, too, am fluent in silence.”

— R. Arnold 

Happy new year to the handful of people who follow me. I hope this year we'll be less depressed.

Downfall

Our ancestors speak through us.

~Me

All love is, inherently, selfish. Ponder.

~Me

"The Sparrow in my Head"

There is a little sparrow in my head that likes to cause a mess.

It distracts me with its shrill screeching

that bounces against and vibrates my skull.

It flaps its tiny wings and causes a flurry in my head, like a feral hurricane.

It drills against my brain and causes pulsing migraines

and sometimes it nips at my eyeballs.

There is a little sparrow in my head

Shackled and caged behind bars of steel.

It is bruised,broken and battered

And its wings are clipped.

To set it free somebody will have to crack open my skull.

"It's not fair", cries the sparrow.

"Oh but it is fair", I reply,

"Just like, a head for a head,

a tail for a tail,

an eye for an eye,

and your freedom for mine."

The little sparrow gives a sad chirp and droops its wee head.

"Do not despair, little bird", I consol,

"One day you'll be able to fly,

high above, higher than the sky.

For just like in the circle of life,

the day your life begins,

is the day mine ends.

So chin up and wait some more,

just a little more time."

There is a little sparrow in my head that weeps tears of patience.

There is nothing else it can do.

~Me

*Inspired by Bluebird by Charles Bukowski*

He said, with wise, young eyes, a single tear almost cascading down his cheek, "Ya ukhti, I cannot sleep. I had to bury my father, then my mother, then my sister." He swallowed hard, "Ya ukhti", his voice trembling, he continues, "Ya ukhti, my toys they bleed, I'm scared I'll have to bury them too."

Downfall

After every pain, there is relief but some never fade away. 

-haru