There is power in the human mind. So unexplained, yet silent and comforting. It surrounds your world – and only yours – in an everlasting stride of attributes belonging only to you. This is an ability that could find comfort in silence and solitude. Beautiful. People of no words – are to never be underestimated. For in the unspoken language there is an awesome sense of reality and fiction, pulled to one mind. “Average” the say. Completely ignorant to the true strength of silence. Tragic. Yet they still make no sound, for victory is in the wordless. And the wordless is the truth. Success is within themselves – home is within themselves. Incredible.
This feature, so luxurious. It takes ages to decipher, and requires persistence to break through. But the value of this bittersweet secret… is greater than any word of mouth.
When is a person considered to be corrupted? It is when all the raw emotions of anger and envy manage to consume a person’s moral. With these feelings, a human is pushed to an impasse, with no other escape but to result to revenge. In “The Count of Monte Cristo” the protagonist is a prime example of a person being horribly misjudged. And through reading this book, I found that desire for revenge can only be obtained when one has lost something of importance.
It is quite sad that people have the audacity to push another into such a dangerous state, it is especially wrong to see the instigator unaware of their doings.
Remember, you can push even the most patient person to revenge. Don’t underestimate words.
In class we are currently reading “The Count of Monte Cristo”, an epic story of revenge. In the book the main character Edmond Dantes, was a prisoner in the Chateau d’If, where he met his mentor, Faria. With this book, time passes by rapidly, and soon we discover that Faria, and Dantes’ father dies.
It gives me a horrible feeling, death that is. What really shook me however, is how sometimes, people don’t acknowledge those who are supporting you. It is a well known fact that going through tribulations as a lone wolf is impossible.
How terrible though, having such an influential character die. In stories these characters might not get enough “screen time”, but I hope to apply this thought in real life. Don’t wait until someone “dies” to acknowledge them. Try and be aware of who’s really there for you, so what they give to you in return won’t be in vain.
How cruel, humans are, to themselves and to others. It is heard that misfortune is caused by man, not the will of God. Sometimes this idea makes us chase for silver linings, and we are left with desperation and monotone faces. What we fail to realize, is the small filters of light already around us. It takes time to find silver linings, but there is something called Komorebi (the light that shines through tree leaves). It is easy to find but still very bright. When we are brought down by man, remember that happiness can be found in less grand appearances, and save a little hope for yourself.
Recently I watched the movie, Paths of Glory, an anti-war film that stirred many emotions in me. I had an epiphany when reaching the end of the story. And it was the fact that war is real. Teenagers with no experience in such raw violence tend to forget this fact, myself included. It has always been me and my own little world, oblivious to what is really going on. So after learning more about WWI, and the different fronts the countries fought in, I realized that there was more than one front that soldiers had to fight with. Continue reading
Here is my work that I started at precisely 6:57. My writing is not true, nor interesting. But it reveals the secrets of my obscure secrets. It is like the Orpheus ways – almost succeeding, but it can also be compared to the rush of a water god’s cavalry. So tell me, how does one write such beauty with integrity and confidence? The answer is something… perhaps it is things like talent, experience, or the common solution: practice.
Here is my work that I am continuing at 7:04. I have yet to reach the top of the mountain that is just above the clouds. And I struggle to fall in love with the words I type now. Still, it feels unknown like modern day’s opinion on the Mona Lisa. I come up with so many questions … questions … questions, and it is quite possible that there are no answers. But is this truth a lie?
Here is my work that I am finishing at 7:15, while looking back at 6:59. I see myself typing the first of the sequential order, and worrying about finding the answer to my ignorance of a confident art. Yet at 7:10, it occurred to me that the truth to this problem is to lie, or to simply have no fear.
Here is my work that I have finished at 7:20, and still appalled on how anger benefitted me with knowledge.
I am the force that brings down the Sun’s doppelganger.
With a mighty dragon, I can make late night mornings disappear,
They vanish, leaving another’s memory as a corpse.
But I still croon at the beast’s small gift.
For they can be domesticated within the inglenook.