I woke up today to a beautiful song of rain, cool breeze breathing fresh air into my otherwise monotonous rooms. I decided to take my meditation for the day outside, to breathe in the cool fresh air as I prep up for the day. As I breath in the air I feel an eclectic mix…
Become a better person they say Strange how they twist the word play Every day as I sit up straight To gather my thoughts to be better and great
If only eyes could see soul instead of body How well would we redefine the ideals of beauty? What'd appease the eye for standards And what'd exquisite and bewitching be like?
And as soon as the pizza arrives There's not a soul who wouldn't jump with hygge! And as soon as the lid is unraveled The cheese overlords bless the room with soothing aroma and babble
She ingests the wooden chocolate scent As she runs her frail soft fingers through the pages one last time Another tear rolls down her eye
She is usually too busy being headstrong, too smart for their historical situation, cantankerous and being the bread winner or taking up the kind of jobs to defile the norms against the dictation of the society.
Either take me back or let every sight I behold sweep me off my feet, everyday showering us with nothing but beautiful thoughts; that the song of rain makes us all dance and that we regain the courage to face everything with a childlike grin running from ear to ear
When life gives ya lemons, make the best goddamn lemonade!
The paradoxical invisibility of the plight of the migrants on one hand and their hyper-visibility on the media on the other isn't the first time this indifference and the incompetence of the upper classes and authorities at the time of an enormous humanitarian crisis has emerged