I always found it a bit amusing when people said that “they need to find themselves” – as if all their life, they were wandering like lost souls. But I get it now, mainly because lately I’ve began to discover myself increasingly. Yes, I’m aware of how extremely cheesy and clichéd that sounds, but for lack of originality, I’ll continue… Although I was never on a “mission” of any sort – or none that I care to acknowledge – I realize that I have learned more about myself in the past year than I might possibly have in my entire life. I guess I sort of was living my life in a bubble, because although I could see the possibilities that lay outside of it, I never dared to burst out of it.
Whether it was a date, a vacation, a celebration, a dispute, or even a simple conversation… I learned something about myself and the world swirling around me. Everyone has their own idiosyncrasies, so you’re all bound to reach this point through some unconventional way or another. The point when you realize
…that your strength comes from the mind – not muscles
…that love originates from free will – not the heart
…that serenity comes from knowledge – not ignorance
...that respect is earned by speaking up - not kneeling down
…that happiness is created by you – not delivered to you
abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz. At your local library they have these arranged in ways that can make you cry, giggle, love, hate, wonder, ponder, and understand. It's astonishing to see what these twenty-six little marks can do. In Shakespeare's hands they became Hamlet. Mark Twain wound them into Huckleberry Finn. James Joyce twisted them into Ulysses. Gibbon pounded them into The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. John Milton shaped them into Paradise Lost.
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