If the trees could talk, they would speak of pain and loss, tell stories of struggle, of life winning against all odds. Maybe they could teach us how to give without expecting. Maybe then we would think of them as living beings instead of just furniture.
A journey doesn’t end when you have reached your destination, it ends when you finally believe you are at your destination or you decide to give up on yourself to complete the journey. But sometimes your journey doesn’t seem to end and it keeps on taking you to new destinations. It tries and tests you but also give you strength, to keep going on. And that is when you no longer remain a traveler. You become A Wanderer…
Why do we only notice the big things? Why can’t we see all the little things happening around us? We are so busy in our own big worlds that we miss out on all these little beautiful things that can give us joy. But we fail to see them, feel them, give them a chance to bring us happiness and we keep on living with a lie that bigger is better.
If only I could take this pain away
I wouldn’t have to see you in this bed
I can see life slowly draining
you can’t scream but I know it’s aching
maybe you’ll see the sunrise
maybe you’ll fade with the night
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In the end,we'll all become stories. Write and live a good one.