What dreams are made of…

February 29, 2008

Everytime, everyday

Filed under: about me — papyy @ 5:38 am

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Everytime you see a bug you feel like smashing it. Everytime you see a bit of hope and happiness in someone’s eyes you feel like taking that away from them and telling them it’s all wrong. Why are people dying to see you giving the last of you just to be happy? You are supposed to work for your thoughts, a spiritual journey between mind and feelings.

Give away just a drop of your imagination and try to set your mind on ‘nothing’. Just think of this word and try to spell it in your mind. Even when you think you have cleared off your thoughts you are still thinking of something.

Everytime you see a bird flying you imagine what it would be like to be in its place. I can do that, I can rise myself
in the heights of the sky and feel like flying above everything and everyone. It feels like the first touch of love, it is something pure, new and fresh everytime you experience it.

Everytime I’m on my routine I see it there waiting for me. Early in the morning, when the sun wants to send me to bed I find myself facing my senses and shining. I put my fingers through my hair, I close my eyes and I replace my senses: I open my wings and fly into the wide space, into the open air - I love it.

I love to do this in the morning - it’s music.

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