๐’ฑ๐‘œ๐’พ๐’ธ๐‘’ ๐’ช๐’ป ๐’ฏ๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐’Ÿ๐’พ๐“ˆ๐‘’๐“ƒ๐’ป๐“‡๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’ธ๐’ฝ๐’พ๐“ˆ๐‘’๐’น

Insight, philosophy, Poem, Poetry

I always heard talk of โ€˜whatโ€™s meant to beโ€™ย told time and time again that life works wonders.

Time after time Iโ€™d disagree.
Iโ€™d ask,
โ€˜Whoโ€™s to say whatโ€™s meant for me?โ€™

whoโ€™s to say I matter so much, so much that thereโ€™s a plan out of reach, some divine notion, a greater guidance of sorts… on what grounds do I base such arrogant assumptions?

On what evidence do we assume our lives more worthy than the next…
our lives more righteous than the past?

If the individual is paramount, if โ€˜specialโ€™ is what we are,
then by what criteria is that marked?
this is all I ask

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Picture Me

Insight, philosophy, Poem, Poetry, thoughts, Uncategorized

Even when you think you canโ€™t;
when things are unclear,
when the fairy tale is abstract
and devoid of joy.
Picture me.
Use your imagination to visit me,
bare your soul
and trust Iโ€™ll feel,
from places beyond,
your word at all times
as such is our bond.
Always yours,
near or far, together or apart
our souls tied forevermore.

@BusyInWonder

๐’ฏ๐‘œ ๐ฟ๐‘œ๐“ƒ๐‘’๐“๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘’๐“ˆ๐“ˆ

Insight, philosophy, Poem, Poetry, thoughts

AD66209C-E437-401B-B097-40994F69AE94

โ™ฅ Untitled โ™ฅ

Insight, philosophy, Poem, Poetry, thoughts, Uncategorized

4744EBA1-929B-4273-9272-24874278D499

หœโ€*ยฐโ€ข.หœโ€*ยฐโ€ข Written Paintings โ€ขยฐ*โ€หœ.โ€ขยฐ*โ€หœ

Insight, philosophy, Poem, Poetry, thoughts, Uncategorized

๐˜›๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ฌ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด๐˜ต ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ต๐˜ด,
๐˜ธ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ค๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜ด ๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฑ๐˜ฆ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด๐˜ด
๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ท๐˜ถ๐˜ญ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ข๐˜ฃ๐˜ช๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜บ ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ๐˜ค๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ;
๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ข๐˜จ๐˜ข๐˜ช๐˜ฏ
๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ญ๐˜ญ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ญ๐˜ข๐˜บ๐˜ด ๐˜ฎ๐˜บ ๐˜ฑ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ.

๐˜›๐˜ฉ๐˜ณ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜จ๐˜ฉ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ต๐˜ข๐˜ญ ๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฎ๐˜ด,
๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ต๐˜ธ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ถ๐˜ฑ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ท๐˜ข๐˜ญ – ๐˜ธ๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฅ๐˜ด ๐˜ธ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฆ๐˜ต๐˜ค๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ
๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ ๐˜ญ๐˜บ๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ญ ๐˜ธ๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ด,
๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ณ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜จ๐˜ฉ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ช๐˜ด๐˜ข๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ณ๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ท๐˜ฆ ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ
๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ด๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ญ ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ด๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ ๐˜ณ๐˜ข๐˜ฅ๐˜ช๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ญ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜จ๐˜ฉ๐˜ต.

๐˜ž๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฅ๐˜ด ๐˜ฑ๐˜ข๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ต ๐˜ฆ๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฏ๐˜ข๐˜ญ ๐˜ฑ๐˜ช๐˜ค๐˜ต๐˜ถ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด.
๐˜—๐˜ช๐˜ค๐˜ต๐˜ถ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด ๐˜ธ๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ค๐˜ฉ ๐˜ฑ๐˜ข๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ต ๐˜ข ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ด๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ธ๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฅ๐˜ด,
๐˜ช๐˜ง ๐˜ด๐˜ฐ ๐˜ด๐˜ข๐˜ช๐˜ฅ ๐˜ธ๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฅ๐˜ด ๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ด๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ๐˜ด ๐˜ธ๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ.
๐˜›๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ตโ€™๐˜ด ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฑ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ,
๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ข๐˜ฌ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ด๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ด๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜ช๐˜ต ๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ข๐˜จ๐˜ข๐˜ช๐˜ฏ.

Hฬถaฬถpฬถpฬถeฬถnฬถsฬถtฬถaฬถnฬถcฬถeฬถ

Insight, philosophy, Poem, Poetry, thoughts, Uncategorized

๐˜ž๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ต ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ค๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ค๐˜ฆ?

๐˜๐˜ต ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง

๐˜ธ๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ต ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ฑ๐˜ญ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ

๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ฑ๐˜ฑ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ค๐˜ฆ.

 

๐˜Š๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ค๐˜ฆ ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ต ๐˜ฌ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ

๐˜บ๐˜ฆ๐˜ต ๐˜ฌ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ,

๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ท๐˜ฐ๐˜ช๐˜ค๐˜ฆ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ต ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ด ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ฅ๐˜ด ๐˜บ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด,

๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ค๐˜ฐ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ต ๐˜ง๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ค๐˜ฆ๐˜ด ๐˜ฎ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฆ๐˜ถ๐˜ท๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ

๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ณ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ฎ๐˜ด – ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ค๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ค๐˜ฆ.

 

๐˜Š๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ค๐˜ฆ ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜จ๐˜ฉ๐˜ต ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ ๐˜ด๐˜ฐ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ด๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ด,

๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฑ๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ด ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ต ๐˜ญ๐˜ข๐˜บ ๐˜ข๐˜ฅ๐˜ซ๐˜ข๐˜ค๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ต

๐˜ฆ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ด๐˜ช๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ,

๐˜ต๐˜ณ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ธ๐˜ฆ๐˜ญ๐˜ญ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด๐˜ด ๐˜ด๐˜ฐ,

๐˜ง๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜จ๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ฅ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด๐˜ด ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ค๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ต๐˜ด,

๐˜ค๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ค๐˜ฆ ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฑ๐˜ฐ๐˜ด๐˜ด๐˜ช๐˜ฃ๐˜ช๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ฆ๐˜ด, ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฑ๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜ด.

 

๐˜Š๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ค๐˜ฆ ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ถ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฌ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ๐˜ฏ,

๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ ๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ญ ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ด ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ถ๐˜ต๐˜บ

๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜จ๐˜ญ๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜บ, ๐˜ช๐˜ต ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ง๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜จ๐˜ฐ๐˜ต๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ต๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ,

๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ถ๐˜ฏ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ๐˜ญ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜บ.

๐˜ˆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ช๐˜ตโ€™๐˜ด ๐˜ด๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜บ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ถ๐˜ต ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ถ๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ง๐˜ถ๐˜ญ,

๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ถ๐˜ด๐˜ฆ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ต๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ณ๐˜ด,

๐˜ข ๐˜ต๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜ค๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ค๐˜ฆ… ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ฑ๐˜ฑ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ค๐˜ฆ.

โ€˜Enoughโ€™

Insight, Poem, Poetry

You say itโ€™s enough,

you think things can change

if you say it enough,

itโ€™s incrementally better,

but thatโ€™s never enough.

 


You bury the feeling,

it pains one so much,

irrational decisions, burn the love,

they said all would change

but thatโ€™s never enough.

 

Busy In Wonder โœ๐Ÿพ
Asya Valentine

Busy in wonder: Who Knows, Maybe Iโ€™ll See The Glass Half full…

Insight, philosophy, thoughts, Uncategorized

If only for myself I write these thoughts, Iโ€™ll write yet more, to satisfy my own yearn for expression, my own desire to be heard, to matter, to be greater than the some of my parts. I know that my mirror reflects a man greater than itโ€™s shown, a man with potential untapped and projections uncapped. I see a man of honour, I see a man of trust and wisdom. A man whoโ€™s allowed experience to guide him but knowledge to shape him. I see him stand, I see him speak, compassionate and firm, a glaring light.

Yet still most days I wonder. Most days Iโ€™m aware of who I am, who I was and who I would like to be – and I wonder, had my previous self been a little more free, free to think free to read, free to learn, free to be; and he had stood before that mirror would he see what I now see? And if that be true, then had time been wasted? Maybe. Or maybe itโ€™s the experience that allows context to be applied to new knowledge. Maybe itโ€™s the pain, maybe itโ€™s the memories, maybe itโ€™s the thoughts that only I can access, in the darkest corners of pneuma that even allow such a reflection to be possible.

These moments lead me to think that my vision isnโ€™t in-spite of experience, but tethered to memory of all ilk. What I mean is that hope is a result of understanding ones experience and supplementing that with knowledge. Iโ€™m saying that growth in and of itself is doomed vanity hunt. For I could educate myself one thousand times over, make all the right decisions on paper and still not be a better Asya.

Hope is my wonder and Iโ€™ll be forever busy…

No Happy Endings…

Insight, philosophy, Poem, Poetry, thoughts

 

All the times I told myself Iโ€™ll be fine,ย 

I probably meant it.

When the stars in your sky wonโ€™t align,ย 

youโ€™ll change perspectives.ย 

When your season just remains for a change,ย 

then youโ€™ll accept it.ย 

Reason indicates thereโ€™s more pain,ย 

no happy endings.ย 

Coalition of The Broken

Insight, philosophy, Poem, Poetry, thoughts, Uncategorized

Engulfed by storms, when it rains it pours; no shelter for our dreams.

Despite the facts, all that we lacked,

in hope we stood,

with unreachable goals and the ignorance of innocence.

Time ticks, each of our canvasโ€™ painted, they who were pure now bruised and tainted, sad and broken, alienated and dangerous.

So we leave dreams to sleep, if all loves attached to conditions just leave us be. From dreams to reality,

so many wide asleep, as we lay fast awake in our nightmares.

Open minds meet closed eyes.

Just pain and sorrow when we shut our eyes,

we hate this world but love our lives.

If only time could be renewed and history replayed.

Iโ€™d redraw the canvas, renegotiate our hate, redraft our deal, incubate the pain.

Provide us hope, ignite our dreams, engage our joys and redefine โ€˜weโ€™.

But where imagination and reality cross, we fine tune our desire, give glory to struggle and speak truth to power.