Random Thoughts

What Are You Telling Yourself?

“Our minds love sound. Our minds remember sound. Our minds recreate sound.”

Nothing you want will ever come easy. Why don’t you go back into time, think, was there anything you really wanted, truly wanted, badly wanted, that was just handed over to you – that was just uprooted from its pre-designed space in this world and planted in your hands like a gift, just like that? No.

You ought to know, by now, that things do not work this way. Things do not arrange themselves or shift themselves or package themselves in this manner. Something has to move them. Something has to touch them. Something has to brush against them that will cause an alteration, a change in position, belonging, and ownership.

Things don’t just happen, you have to make them happen, and if you think you cannot make them happen because you lack the expertise, or that you are undeserving of the re-positioning of things, then you have to create an atmosphere for you to deserve it. You have to create an existence of the want and tell your mind about it. You have to tell your mind that you deserve it. That you want it. That you’ve been waiting for it. You have to make your mind hear you speak.

There’s something about sound. Our minds love sound. Our minds remember sound. Our minds recreate sound. Take the sounding of a bell for instance. It rings and rings and rings so that even when it’s no longer ringing you can hear it. You think you can hear it. Or even the buzzing of a mosquito or a large green disgusting housefly. It whizzes past your ear; makes that irritating sound that makes you bend your head sideways. Still, seconds and minutes after it’s gone, you can hear the buzz, even feel it such that you want to fan your ear.

The mind is an interesting thing. Perhaps we should encourage people to speak more to themselves instead of leaving that aspect to be explored only by those roaming naked on our streets. But of course, it actually depends on what you’re telling yourself.

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Until the World Makes a Change…

 

It used to be clean; a haven pure

A habitat of perfection

A kind reflection as the moulder

It was before a chain of love

And purity that lived

 

But change came

By man’s hand; changed was birthed

By the hunger for wisdom; change awoke

In law broken and disobeyed

Changed lived

 

The soil thickened and the rains froze

Grass withered and greens shrivelled

Sweat formed food, eaten with relish

And lips cracked as stomachs growled for those with none

And those who in abundance had, fed the dogs

Hunger knew man, and man sniffed famine

 

Change came with the blood

Clotted on metals sharp as steel

Change came with a passion for slaughter

Man faced man; arm on arm

The combat for vanity

 

Man passion arose his desire to kill

Eyes beheld the innocent and fragile

A year old, turned an object for sex’s fiery.

Relations in molest of their own

Sweat and blood fell to earth and sunk deep

 

The chase for wisdom

The quest for intelligence led to a path dark

Lived in Today

 

Until the world makes a change

Man continues to slay man

 

Until the world makes a change

The innocent will burn in the lust of men

 

Until the world makes a change

Death will dwell in our hearts

 

As change came by the hands of man

So shall restoration be now; by the hands of each man

Until you make a change in

Your thoughts, deeds, words and your hearts.

 

Until the world makes a change…

 

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