You have always been the Pen yourself. You wouldn’t mind what else to write as long as you have it on your mind. You have dodged the stressful ideals of the world that might turn your papers blown away. The aspirations and bottled feelings that brought you here made you the real you as what you have wished to become-a “Writer” of your own version. You never liked the idea of throwing such words and just echoing around a corner but instead, you liked the thought of flying and seeing what’s there to listen, what else to learn and to breath in life. You never told yourself to be going just around the bush but sing instead, and write the most of the lyrics out loud. You’re a writer of your own style. A God’s pen who never wanted to change because the world wants you to. You’re the type of a writer who remembers every color of the sky, every smile of the stars and the sound of the rain. You are you. And always be the writer that you always dreamed of. No matter how changes could drive you crazy, just guard your heart and mind because these two work as one to remind you how wonderful it is to live. So guide your heart and use your mind well while holding your pen as you go on to this journey worth a thousand words to describe of. Dear writer, all along your biggest adventure, never ever forget your wildest dream because in the first place, you simply exist to make it come true. You as a writer, has a purpose. A purpose to shine like the sun, a purpose to bloom like flowers, and a purpose to live like a human. Yes. You need to understand that you are just an ordinary person. As a writer, you must live by holding the pen right despite of sorrows, disappointments and frustrations that life might give. It may be not as perfect as we imagine it to be but a writer must keep in mind that too soon, negativities shall pass. There’s always a rainbow after a rain. You’re stronger to accept things that you cannot control because that’s life. Sometimes, shit happens. Whatever it is that you expect, always hold on to the thought that everything has a reason. The best things are yet to come so buckle up and make the most out of it. You are a writer of your own. The way you think is beautiful. Forever cherish the wonders of nature and be with it. Live as if you have nothing to lose. Dream like you’ll gonna make it. And believe that tomorrow is smiling and be hopeful for the future is just in your hands. You are a writer. Never understimate the power of your pen. With love and passion, everything else makes sense.
Memories never die.
never too late
a little too soon
a life at its end
but a soul still stands
where death is destined
but very unforeseened
the journey ends
but a new chapter begins
to those we can’t see
we can feel
they walk with us
hot on our heels
their affection and love
never fades away
and their memory lives
in our hearts they stay.
there’s so much more than this.
Love is a scary thing
That can wrap you in his arms one second
And hold your head underwater the next
It’s what keeps your heart beating
It was makes you think you’re still alive
But in reality we’re all zombies
Waiting for someone to arrive
Waiting for someone to wake us up
Into another life
Into a place of oblivion
To forget what’s really around us
And forget the obstacles we face
But in the near future
Love turns into a double-edged sword
That stabs you in the back
And twists your soul
You have become a slave to your own thoughts
And insomnia is second nature to you during the night
It rips you apart and throws you in a corner
But the worst part…
Is that no matter what
you still love the one who was holding the sword.
That first time you called her name
The butterflies in her stomach
Sang in decibels she couldn’t hear
But could feel.
Like as if the word Christina
Was born for the first time
And made her see colors
So new she’s sure it’s not a part of that spectrum
she drew in her art class back in the fourth grade
A cosmologist once said that people are all made up of stardust
And she liked thinking “maybe both of you were”..
Maybe both of you came from something that exploded billions of years ago,
but now found their lost parts.
That first time you called her name
Was the first time she felt the betrayal of gravity.
The blood in her veins
Glittered like the fireworks during new year’s eve, and reddened her face;
Her heart pounded with crazy frequencies
She was alive, and conscious, but floating.
You suddenly became…
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