analyse yourself to understand others.Look into your heart to bring out life.dance for the moment ,as it may be the last one.all is fleeting,nothing is guaranteed,after all.

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Share My Notes

“…If I cannot read,I cannot write.”

What was that supposed to mean?
I shall explain.

If one is not able read and so take in information,how can one use the imagination to it’s greatest use?

Therefore,how is it possible to write? Please do not get me wrong,I was not being literal,if information (in whatever form it comes in) comes to us,in a conversation ,for example,where is inspiration (in a true sense ,to be arrived at?) to come to us? Imagination is within us all,I grant you that,but inspiration of some form is needed to give us that spark to bring out the best in us all.

Share My Notes

[…A hand drew itself across the surface…]

…A hand drew across the surface…
…They awoke.Another repeated dream that never finished.

Back to work again.As they made their way there,the nights disturbance was forgotten.

…Much like this write…

The thought(or whatever you wish to call it) presented itself so clearly.” Are these unfinished ‘dreams’ to haunt me even in my waking life?”

They drank their first cup of coffee that day (they did not have time this morning,as they were running late.)

“How many more auditory ‘visitors’ will I experience this day ?

Am I going insane?”

…The knife ended it’s cut abruptly…

A thought came to him,at that very moment

“These passing thoughts never finish,or for that matter,they seem to be missing a form of connection,

can they be representatives of my life,which,thinking about it,is mundane and incomplete?”