Monday

John Dryden - Happy The Man

Happy the man, and happy he alone,
He who can call today his own:
He who, secure within, can say,
Tomorrow do thy worst, for I have lived today.
Be fair or foul or rain or shine
The joys I have possessed, in spite of fate, are mine.
Not Heaven itself upon the past has power,
But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.
…and your retreat becomes your exile, your shelter becomes your prison, your solitude becomes your silent hell. What you gonna do? Where you gonna go? You carry your own hell under your chest, hoping that one day someone will force the way into the darkest halls of your soul, and free you from your own curse, after fighting your demons. But it doesn’t work that way. What do you think a soul is? A sum of everything you are. So beautiful in its complexity and yet so lonely.

Never hope another soul to free you from your own curse. Its your part to fight your demons, no one will free you from the fears and darkness you had in you all this time, most people are not willing to do it, and the rest are not capable of it.

You fight your own battle alone, who ever may join you is just a companion, a companion that may or may not leave at any given stage,

You cannot rely on others in a world where everyone is fighting for their own promised land…”
“Never mourn those who left you, existence in this universe is far more complicated than such attachments. You exist as a source that gives and receives all sorts of energies, don’t limit yourself to those negative in nature. Everything changes, nothing remains the same, everything evolves and moves towards every direction, open your eyes and seek new ways, new paths, new energies, new people. Open your mind, open your soul. Don’t stuck within a state of being, evolve, like the universe itself.

Sunday

"Be still when you have nothing to say; when genuine passion moves you, say what you've got to say, and say it hot."

~~ D. H Lawrence

Friday

William Burroughs

Desperation is the raw material of drastic change. Only those who can leave behind everything they have ever believed in can hope to escape.

William Wordsworth

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils,
Beside the lake, beneath the trees
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: -
A poet could not but be gay
In such a jocund company:
I gazed -and gazed -but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought.

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills
And dances with the daffodils