Dearest Soulmate, With all the sincerity and innocence of my inner child, I still truly believe that you exist. That you, you know would know to love me just the way I love. With every fibre of being, always giving, giving and giving. That when you would look at me, you will see me: someone you can give your whole self to, without questions and without reasons. That when you would hold me then all these parts of me, these shattered bits, these hidden shards, the dead blunt rocks, the stupid parts, the ones with desire and lust, the cruel and crazy, the child, the God, the demon, the slave, the master, the Goddess; each of them will come together and then everything will make sense. Everytime I lost. Everytime I fell. The times when I hid, I cried, I died, I lived. Every single one of them will finally make perfect sense.
Dear soulmate. Maybe you and me, we are the same. I am my soulmate. With all the flaws and the nasty bits; yet when I look at myself- I don't just see a person. I see a thousand trapped stories, the numerous dandelions and just enough butterflies.
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I was walking in a brightly lit hall when contrastingly, I saw two almost pitch black pearls. Those were the eyes of a stuff toy, Stitch. At first, I was mystified and pushed the thought in the corner of my mind. Suddenly, my eyes caught glimpses of its tears; and they scream the signs of wearing down. (I hoped it won't completely get broken down.) I'm thankful of whatever moved my heart; my heart, then, moved my feet to action. I picked up the broken and scattered pieces: the foams, the fabrics, the threads, and Stitch itself. Days have gone by, weeks and months, a dozen or so. During those times, I tried stitching Stitch. I mended together what were torn apart. With my two hands, slowly, it was getting back to its former, actually, greater beauty. Still, there were some parts that confounded me. Due to my lack of knowledge, I may also have reattached severed parts that instead of mending, it worsened the stuff toy's state. I used my two hands again, hoping that someday, Stitch will be completely mended. However, instead of using these two hands to stitch Stitch myself, I just clasped the two in prayer form and prayed for someone who better can. That's why, I'm like a cup brimming and overflowing with joy when I knew that a Master Craftsman can water what I planted, or rather, completely fix the broken and scattered pieces. I knew that the Master Craftsman, who works meraki, will be a great help. I thought, "If it is the Master Craftsman who has a vast experience and probably had many toys that were broken and is willing to fix them, I know that Stitch would be in good hands if I ask the Master Craftsman to repair Stitch." And so I did. I will remain checking Stitch from time to time to see how the repair is going. With His love and the Master Craftsman's, I'm sure that healing is just a matter time. I'm contented... and prithee, Stitch, let it be known that there will always be a part of you with me, and I in you. I know, because I left a crimson mark inside you.
Cravings: Cravings speak a language That determination crams. Mind unites with heart To pretend And work incessantly with meraki To forget that results Tryst with destiny only. Life sprints, Madness never ends. Sometimes success clasps, To end the cravings, But realizing no end of greed, Decides not to return so early.
Swami Vivekanand- "Love is expansion and hate is contraction." Martin Luther King Jr-"Darkness can not drive out darkness.Only light can do that.Hate can not drive out hate only love can do that." @miraquill#wod#ikigai#meraki