His quiet days were feathers without hurry, moving this way and that in the air, happy to change direction according to the wind. Just as the feather will in its own sweet time be at rest upon the earth, so the sun will rise and set high in the sky. Yet in each gifted moment between them, there was such freedom, an infinitely branching path with no paths at all. And in that complete liberty there was a need for the calm kind of patience, the one that is content to await the path to glow, to show itself worthy of adventure, of curiosity, of enchantment.The sunrise meant so many things as it drifted in, igniting the colours of his room. The light was the greatest artist in history, creating beauty on the canvas beyond this window pane. It shone a path to his thoughts, and, as his mind wanders to them, he feel my eyes smile and a rising coziness in his core. Along the way, these new rays will reveal silken webs and grass wands of many hues, the rich browns of oak arms, the silver-cream
Thomas sat still, listening to the woman there as she complained of the things that his wife had done. He wished he could have been surprised, but he knew more than half of what she had said was the truth. He let in a deep sigh, then scratched his head. "What about you?" He heard a voice say, and then with time, he began to process it to be the woman's voice. "What about you?" She asked again, "what did she do to you? I mean you're her husband after all, what can she possibly do to you?" She asked, thinking of what could have possibly happened. Thomas didn't know where to start from, but he decided to begin with the fact that his wife had lied to him. "She told me about you, Pedro Alonzo." He began his tale. "She did tell me that you're a rich man who was supposed to help and save us all. And the way you would do that was by getting married to my daughter, Doris Castiel. And I was truly grateful because we are in a financial mess right now." He said, and they both listened." But the
What are you doing here?... was the first question Nathan wanted to ask. He needed answers and fast.His wife wasn't home. How on earth was he supposed to convince the man before him that he had lost his memory and doesn't remember him?? How!The path of life was indeed challenging enough, without making mountains out of molehills, and yeah, everyone of them all see the craggy mountain of ice when we are afraid, triggered, maxed out emotionally... So instead of that high drama, he decided to breathe... letting his energy come down to something softer... then breathed a few more times and watch that big 'ol scarface hill become something more friendly. "I've seen your pictures, and so, I know who you are. Owen Castiel, second born of the Castiel family. It is actually a pleasure finding you here in my house." Nathan decided to take a calmer approach to the situation at hand and hoped not to resolve in any form of violence—physical or emotional. "And so for this reason, I would like to
"Then once we have found a way to talk to them both, this is bringing me down to our next agenda." Nathan said, and Doris listened attentively. "Manuel has a sister. You see, right from the beginning, all of his riches and wealth was meant to be for her. Because his father willed everything down to her all because she was loved and cherished by him. And then, Manuel... well we don't actually know the full tale." He paused, wondering what the actual tale might have been. "But the story I heard from Trevor, and as well as other people, they said that he pushed the woman down from a tall building and it knocked her into a coma. That she has been there in a coma for years. And no one knows exactly where she is now," "Oh but we can't be sure if she survived the fall or not." Doris said, "that's a bit sad actually." "It would have been actually, except she had a son!" This brought the expression on Doris face to grow wide and bright. "Yes." Nathan said wholeheartedly. "And this leads me
Fernando had been with Parker Ryan that morning. Now he knew that he couldn't even trust the man, but still, he wanted to have the discussion with him. "Well then, what is your take on this?" He asked, and waited for his reply. Parker Ryan's face contorted into a slight frown. "I'm sorry, what were you talking about again? I lost track of my reality." It had been there a while now, this anger, escaping when he was away from those I love. He was angry at store clerks and car drivers, heck, he was even angry if his sandwich wasn't quite right. But the truth is, his life needed changing for the better, because there was more going into this brain and body than he could handle and still be him.Manuel really lived in anger, almost as cartoon characters do, so lost in that moment and the torment his brain was in. He had see it first in his eyes, then a tension of his muscles, an inability to think clearly soon followed. The rational Manuel was offline and the primitive Manuel who revert
Isla had been alone in her room when her father came down. She was lost in thoughts, wondering what was right and wrong. "Nothing is ever free, is it, daddy?" She asked the moment she saw him. "Everything you ever give me is a debt, "remember who gave that to you, remember I did that for you." Every conversation is a subtle competition you are never prepared to loose, for even the smallest of infractions can bring on your anger. You take all the love I give you like it is your right to have it, and in return show only the most superficial of understanding. You dominate me, hurt me, wage war, when all I only ever wanted was love, understanding, peace."After your tantrums you make me work for your affection all over again, make me beg, taking my self esteem and burning it to ashes. I need your "permission" to be friends with people, you get antagonistic if I laugh too much. Is happiness offensive to you? Am I only allowed a certain quota before you drag me down once more?"In conversa
Your suffering, your memory of it, is like a teddybear fashioned from glass shards - the tighter you cling to it the deeper it will cut. So perhaps practice putting it down for longer periods of time, noticing when you have picked it up and it slices at your skin. You and it are separate. One day you'll notice that the bad teddybear is gone, you lost it sometime and never noticed. You will see that your good and noble choices made a better life, something positive, and now you hold a new teddybear, soft and warm, one that brings an inner glow and keeps you cosy under starlight and sunshine alike.These painful memories, they're just the same as nightmares. They vanish when I'm awake, when I'm really right here in the present moment with you. Once I really open my eyes, let in daylight, they have no choice but to leave and I can let in all the wonderful things around me.Doris tried for words to comfort her, but failed. There was a pause and she took in a deep sigh. Finally, she began
The painful love comes in two varieties, the good and the bad. For there can be pain in separation from your true love. Yet when it is good the separation builds you both stronger as individuals and as a couple, as partners in all you do. For in these moments of pain is the truth of what you are to one another. Such separation can be the golden ticket to realising that you are soulmates, the forever person of one another. The bad kind of painful love is when one partner is emotionally cold. They want the relationship and perhaps cling to it, even fight for it, but in truth they always put themselves first and are incapable if being the hero the loving partner deserves. As such, until separation, the loving and empathic partner is in pain, most often confused as to why this love hurts and feeling that love is difficult. Their pain comes because they aren't loved, they are consumed by the other. At some deep level they realise that if they stop the endless one-sided giving and support t