“And when I was looking at myself in the mirror, I realized that beneath these scars lies a woman, that is good that is kind, that I myself aspired to be.”

Would you want to breathe if you were to ask for oxygen? Would you want to drink if you were to beg for a glass of water? would you want to eat if you were to pray for a plate of food? Well, I wouldn’t.

No matter where we are, what air we breathe or which stars we are under. Your eyes always take me to dream land; that inner child-like peace of mind. That I crave when you’re gone and afar and I only see you when in my sleep.

I can truly see myself in that light, the green iris of my eye like a jungle, full of life. And when snow covers the green, and my skin looses its color I crave that wilderness in my eye.

I don’t want to get down I want to get high. To stay high to fly high out of it.

I’m dehydrated, lacking the water you pour into me every time we drown in each other’s navy blue oceans.

Peace is when I am cuddled up in a snug wool blanket with a hot coffee in hand without worry in mind, so I can dream about red sunsets and the scent of warm, sun kissed bodies.

And, somehow that loved and loving girl can love anyone but herself.

Finding inner peace is a lost art for with every breath and sigh new stimuli comes and leaves us in a pool of racing thoughts and worries.

I want you here beside me, to make me feel like the only pearl you’d be looking for in the ocean.

Should you find the most convenient way of breathing, it will not make you feel more alive.

On the verge of what is there to see, a beautiful landscape of the sea washing away what we’re made off, looking back we drown we fall.

Do you recognize your voice, the one that’s coming from your own mouth, when words are forming on your tongue?

Curled up in a ball slowly shutting down as my body is being devoured by those ugly, fearsome monsters that have lived in my guts ever since I could remember.

So grand yet so small, so important yet so irrelevant, so beautiful yet so shallow, must thee live in illusion or does real life leave too much of a confusion?

Hatred conquers the sea in which is growing thee them tiny pearls struggling a little trying to solve the final riddle.

Carrying the weight of my mistakes I burst into flames that hurt my skin.

Let us not be justices of the peace, but angels of peace.

There comes a time in the seeker’s life when he discovers that he is at once the lover and the beloved. The aspiring soul which he embodies is the lover in him. And the transcendental Self which he reveals from within is his Beloved.

Experience has taught me that you cannot value dreams according to the odds of their coming true. Their real value is in stirring within us the will to aspire.

Next to meditation is music, soulful music, the music that stirs and elevates our aspiring consciousness.

Jealousy is a miserable feeling. It means you aspire to something that you cannot have. Even in love, it is better to leave, better not to waste time.

Aspire, break bounds. Endeavor to be good, and better still, best.

Our aspirations are our possibilities.

Diminish the mass of evils that afflict the human species, increase enjoyment and well-being. And even if the new routes opened up could prolong the average life of mankind by only a few hours, or even a few days, then the scientist, too could aspire.