have you found your fight?

i seem to have this habit to write on Sundays. inspiration so to speak, to speak my mind.. time of the week to indulge and interact with all the thoughts, big or small, that have all been residing in my head. related or not, coherent or otherwise.

today's indulgence is to question a fight. your fight. my fight. our fight, together. their fight.

what do you fight for? what do you fight against? what do you think people should fight for, or should let go off?

there are so many things happening at the same time. massacre, earth quake, artist dying, your neighbour having a divorce, your best friend not talking to you, the schools in your hometown not having proper buildings, classrooms.. animals abused, trees being chopped off, technology work hand in hand with pollutants to kill Mother Earth.. just to name a few.

we can feel bad for all the bad things that are happening to other people, near or far. but feeling bad, pity, regret, compassion and whatnot can mean so much more if one were to take action and fight for a cause, don't you think? standing up for a cause and taking tangible actions should be cultivated. like how we are encouraged to save 10% of our salary every month, we should maybe dedicate 10% of our time to champion a cause, some causes.

source: Pictures and Quotes

have you found your fight? i am still looking.. i hope i don't have to look too long, or too far.

don't forget to remember..

E.E. Cummings

“You have to be always drunk. That’s all there is to it—it’s the only way. So as not to feel the horrible burden of time that breaks your back and bends you to the earth, you have to be continually drunk.

But on what? Wine, poetry or virtue, as you wish. But be drunk.

And if sometimes, on the steps of a palace or the green grass of a ditch, in the mournful solitude of your room, you wake again, drunkenness already diminishing or gone, ask the wind, the wave, the star, the bird, the clock, everything that is flying, everything that is groaning, everything that is rolling, everything that is singing, everything that is speaking…ask what time it is and wind, wave, star, bird, clock will answer you: “It is time to be drunk! So as not to be the martyred slaves of time, be drunk, be continually drunk! On wine, on poetry or on virtue as you wish.”
— Charles Baudelaire

the Mother is in my head

the Sun has always wanted to leave. He has, for the longest time, longed to leave this space... to venture into another dimension, where nothing is real and he doesn't have to rise and set, he doesn't have to behave on HIS day, he doesn't have to be responsible for the flowers blooming, the trees fit and healthy, and human laughing among others.

the Sun has always wanted to do what he wants to do and not be responsible for 1 million other things that is solely/directly/indirectly dependant on him. he does not want to be liable.

the Sun, has always wanted to know what it feels like to be cold. the cold he feels inside is so far off in comparison to the cold that he cannot feel on the outside.

~

the Moon was the lost limb. the ugly toe, if i may. and the Moon is so blessed to have a simple mind with contentment in his heart. all he does is to dream the alternate life that he anticipates to being true, one of these days.

~

and the end will be when the bits and pieces of the limbs reconnect into something whole, and perfect.

Neil Gaiman and the thoughts of fragrance got me thinking...

Before SHE comes, she'll reach first.
Before SHE's here, she'll announce her presence.
Some smile, some scorn, some turn.
Before SHE speaks, she'll say first.

Before we know HER, the perfume(she) lingers..