When Everyday Is A Fulfilling Jubilee…

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Life Becomes An Everlasting Embodiment Of Celebrations

I received many messages regarding the vivid nature of the “moments” I lived during the last holidays… Messages reflecting the essence of what seems to be a renewed spirit that allows me to embrace the “moment” of my life… Messages about the nature of my current fulfilling life as I daily choose to fully live it, regardless of the same usual suspects sweetly whispering “i love you” as they pressure me to dress myself with the cloaks of reclusive beliefs they don’t have the courage to dress themselves with… Peace is a fragile state of soul, but love is a powerful incarnation when grace is fully embraced… The last couple of months have been all about finding love and redefining my vision as such; being free of a deep freedom… the Saint Grail of modern society, pseudo philosophers and religious recruitment publicity campaigns… aren’t we all the same…? As some might see me as a universalist of some sort, and others sum up true love in a “let’s agree to disagree” kind of make-believe resolution, I simply turned my eyes towards the new dawn’s light… I profoundly know that the morning star is arising to shine on me, as the first breathes of the day are mine to define, craft and live by… It took me a long time to embrace such simple facts, but now, you are right, it’s by a renewed spirit that I’m embracing the “moment” of my life…

Curiously, some people used to say they’d rather be hated for who they truly are than be loved for who people want them to be… as true as those words could be… I say that personal “truth” is a commodity by which people bargain the measure of their own illusionary happiness…

Ocean And Shadows

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I waited for quite a while to reopen the window of the little room I called my own in the incredible “home-circus” journey also known as Your Favorite Enemies. A place where colorful stories are draping the walls of my personal shadow, where inner blues are shining stars incarnating vivid crane mobiles hanging from the ceiling of my two-tone sky, where every tear is an orphan prayer blooming an ocean for my doubts to dive into deep, where old paper dreams are the personification of a merciful new dawn delicately crafted into an origami renaissance and where musing whispers are turning silences into invisible notes for my humming soul to grow a song for grace to rise.

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