After the flood, the colors were brightened demand tears of pain to feel so enlightened. Lassoed hope from the clouds that caused it to rain, divine intervention to feel love again.
ALETHEIA LIOLATrust is an illusion. A systematically flawed word. A total forgery of a statement. Trust assumes infallibility – without errors, mistakes, or fuck ups.
More Aletheia Liola Quotes
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Trust is an illusion. A systematically flawed word. A total forgery of a statement. Trust assumes infallibility – without errors, mistakes, or fuck ups.
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On my worst days, I give the devil hell. On my best day, I hold a light for God to dwell.
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Move from reactionary; seek neutrality. It’s the only way to truly be free.
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My core; shook and rumbled. My being; awakened, humbled. My psyche; aligned, revives. My flesh; survived and thrives. This moment. The presence. A gift. Breathe. Smile. Be happy. Exist. Exhale. Relax. Surrender. Inspire. Inhale. Trust. Love. Respire.
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Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, they say – Do I see, what is me? Or did his eyes lead me astray?
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Wound to wisdom, pain to power. A seed of grief, now time to flower.
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The highest love. Highest power. I will let you in. Devour this anguish, I’m harboring, all to you, surrendering.
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I dragged my pain into the darkness, I carried it into the light – No matter where I choose to take it, This pain refuses to subside. I washed my sins off in the ocean, I prayed all my badness away, Whichever God I choose to worship, I cannot make my soul be saved.
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Contemplation; intrinsic. I am aligned perception. A, perfected plan. I am ferocious and tranquil. Rising. Pain to power. Alchemic. Energising
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Love is easier to carry than hate. So I untangle from my past and realize my fate. Transcend the pain to forgiveness, to nurture my scars. We are what we witness, and we are also stars.
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My mother used to say “Don’t put off until tomorrow what you can do today” I say What can you do today to make the world a better place?
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The child within; raised voice; fast heart; flinches. Flight response, with an attitude and broken hinges. The child within; tiptoes; eggshells. Heaven; hell. Still, she finds a quiet place, safe and tranquil; dwell.
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Our interpretations reflect our imperfections. We will always read between the lines, but we decide what we choose to find.
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So what do we say to each other is the language of unspoken? The words are sweet; the space is bitter or is this just the them I’ve chosen.
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He always preferred the way my eyes looked after they had cried. I wish he knew how fine they looked once he had said goodbye.
ALETHEIA LIOLA