Everyday that we wake up and open our sockets of life, we change the filter and adjust the lens. We choose whether it will be gray or vibrant. Sometimes it’s easier to live passively, but as much as we’d all rather live that way, we are in fact the masters of our fates. We lead the lives we live. The thing about spiritual awakenings is that as enlightening as they can be they are equally frightening. We reside within these bubbles of comfort that when awakened we are shaken to the core. Our bubbles burst, they explode, and disperse completely. This paralyzes us momentarily. Once it is settled we are reborn; we are given the chance to be or not to be. We are constantly in direct contact with change, we choose to pass by it or to grasp it. So here’s to grasping onto change with all fours and to second chances. Here’s to life and our choices; the sane and insane.
Her tears were enough to reignite the flames of my rage, a fragile soul made of roses and daisies in such pain, unable to connect the dots between this man and the dad she knows from worn out photographs her mother keeps in the top drawer of her dresser that is slowly falling apart, she gazes into her father's eyes and it finally clicks that this is her dad, the man in the picture is real, this is the very first time she set her big, brown eyes on her dad, and she breaks down into showers of tear turning her face from pale to scarlet, filling every inch of her body with inexperienced joy. The mothers falling to their knees, eyes clouded with tears in complete denial that this day has finally shined upon them, the days turned into weeks, weeks into months, months into years, and she patiently waits holding on by her faith in God, she sees her son and breaks down, he might be injured and his legs are at the brink of being amputated, but in that moment nothing matters but him, he is h
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