Aletheia

Jun. 17th, 2021 10:12 pm
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I’ve spent so long trying to learn more about myself.
I have sunk myself for hours into hundreds of books;
I’m a professional deep-diver in the seas of meditation and mindfulness;
I have floated down rivers of endless self-reflections
and nearly drowned in this reckless current of coursing emotions.
And yet...
I’ve tripped upon far more hidden pieces of myself
in sparing moments,
in passing whispers,
in two small pieces of paper...
With you,
By you,
From you...
Than more than a decade
of my own self-excavation
has ever uncovered.
Sweet Aletheia!
From: Veritas,
To: My Apollo,
my Bacchus,
my Sancus.
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And I wonder, right now, who's out there.
Who is out there gazing at the stars?
Who is out their reflecting on their own souls?
Who is comparing the waves of the ocean to their emotions and their lives,
realizing that these waves that seem so large and powerful are but ripples in the vastness of the ocean?
Who are the dreamers, awake in their beds, lost in the power of their potential and their starving desire to make change?
Who are the wanderers, peaceful in the silent awe of the beauty of the world around them?
Who are the ones who share these pieces of my own heart, my own mind, my own soul?
Who are you?
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There is more than one universe, more stars in them all than our minds can comprehend, countless planets of all sizes and colors...
In all of this, our one little planet managed to exist in the perfect spot for life itself to begin and continue to exist.
The Earth we stand on has been a part of the only creation of life yet to be found within billions of light years away, watching every moment of progress for billions of years.
8.7 million species surround us right now.
When you think about all of this...
All of your worries become so small.

The odds of our very existence were next to nothing. The fact that you're even here - that anyone is - is a miracle.
Don't waste this precious gift by focusing on all these little worries when there are jungles to be seen, food to be tasted, friends to be loved, and so many possible experiences to be relished.

We all have different opinions on what may or may not exist afterwards but, for all we can see right now, this may be our one chance, our one shot, our one short second to let our little lights shine.

Shine bright.
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She stood on the roof
And peered out at the stars
Wondering, if she jumped,
would she make it back to Mars.?
Is she a woman
Or maybe something else?
She never quite belonged
Or understood herself.
She closed her eyes and imagined
That she’s from some other place;
An anomaly sent to this cold-hearted world
From the other side of space.
She felt the stardust brush
Her fingers as she soared;
He saw her flying through the sky
And his faith was then restored.
A feather from her wings
He hoped to steal,
To prove to the world
That angels are real.
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What a beautiful person you are, even beneath those rose lenses, when you show your true self. You are kind and gentle and loving. But be wary of those whom surround you, for they sway you so easily. Stand firm, hold your ground, be true to you. If that voice in your head begins to question your morality, it is time to begin self-reflection. Are you happy with this, where you are right now? What of your past; are you happy with the decisions you've made? Your future; are you happy with the decisions you are about to make? When your heart or mind feel disheveled, take time to pause. I think you forget, all too often, that this is even an option. You move like the river, in constant motion. Perhaps you fear the stillness will bring stagnation. But even the most powerful waves come to pause before receding into that great and powerful ocean. Take heed, for this is important.
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She always was a wild kind of thing.
She was a child of wonder, of existence, of scrapes and bruises.
Ambitious from the start, she felt the world was hers for the taking.
But, oh, how that world took her.
It beat her, cut her, tore her pages away piece by piece.
She came unbound.
She lost her stories and was left with blank pages.
Who am I?
I don't know.
Who am I?
Stop asking!
Who am I?
I am...unwritten.
Who am I?
I am...anything.
Who am I?
I am strength.
I have to be.
Pandora ripped out her own heart and sealed it up inside a box.
You don't belong anymore. You're no good to me now.
And, with a kiss, she hid it in cold darkness.
No one will ever find you here and I'll be safe.
Oh, but little girl, no one is safe from the world.
A grave robber stole that little girl's heart and held it ransom.
It was his favorite plaything and he kept it for many years until its very beating drove him to madness.
Take it! He cried. I can't hold it any longer! Take it!
He threw it out but she couldn't catch it in time. The box fell and shattered, leaving her heart in the open. Vulnerable.
She scrambled to pick it up but was too slow.
A man bent down and held it there in his hands curiously.
He looked at her but she hid her face in shame.
Guilt overwhelmed him and he tried to return it to her.
But it wasn't hers anymore. It was his. She couldn't grasp it.
Something about her caught him. So he held it there in his hands.
Slowly, she uncovered her face.
As her eyes looked into his, something caught her attention.
Something was sticking out from his a pocket. A letter? A page? A page!
She reached out to grab it and he put up no fight. He had nothing to hide.
It was a page from his own book but...it looked so familiar.
The longer she looked, the more she remembered. She remembered a page of her own. The story so much the same.
She pulled out her broken binding to try to sneak the page into it but he caught her.
When he saw that broken bind, though, he felt a familiar kind of pain.
He took it gently and placed his page inside.
It's yours now. They're all yours now.
He reached into a bag hanging from his shoulder and pulled out his own battered binding. His pages were there but they were torn and stained. But she thought them to be quite beautiful. She gently pulled it from his hand and read it page by page.
Who am I? he heard her whisper.
You're mine. he whispered back.
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I found this online and wanted to share. Not sure who the original author is...

"Everyone who terrifies you is sixty-five percent water.
And everyone you love is made of stardust.
And I know sometimes you cannot even breathe deeply,
And the night sky is no home, and
you have cried yourself to sleep enough times
that you are down to your last two percent, but

nothing is infinite,
not even loss.

You are made of the sea and the stars, and one day
you are going to find yourself again."


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If we want to change society - if we want to change the WORLD, we must change how we educate our youth. We are not the ones who hold the power of the future in our hands - they are. It is our duty to ensure every single child is educated and prepared to save our world. Teach them to be robots in a classroom - accepting and regurgitating the information they're given without questioning it and that is exactly what they will be as adults. Robots who go through the motions and accept the media without question. We must raise our children to question everything - submerge them in hands-on learning that forces them to THINK, not just memorize pointless pieces of information that they'll forget within a week or two. We must engrave in them a deep desire to understand and learn - we must fill them with a never-ending thirst for knowledge. When we educate our children in this way, our world will bound ahead in ways we have never even imagined. It all begins with the children. It must always begin with the children.


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Sometimes I get mad at people and find it hard to remember how, deep inside, we're all really the same. We all have dreams, we all love, and we all hurt. Sometimes, though, it's easy for all of us to forget that. That is until you see something like this. I couldn't stop crying while watching this - I've never been more moved by, of all things, a YouTube video. But you will be, too. Trust me - just watch.

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Jordyn Mart

June 2021

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