I love this photo - found it on DeviantArt (as always) and I wish I could post it up as it's original size and do it justice! Its just way pretty. Haha, yes I know, I love a lot of photos. I swear I painstakingly pick every photo you see featured in my posts - it must mean something to me, and affect me in one way - I just hope it's as appreciated by others as much as I appreciate it. We all need a little bit of Art in our lives, no matter what anyone says (:

There are moments in my life where I just forget about being nice, or couldn't care enough to be nice. These moments usually occur in the deep recesses of my heart (or brain, cos you could always do with imagination!) and they can be really horrid thoughts and opinions; things that I'd never say aloud to anyone, except to those whom I know loves me unconditionally.

Sigh.

I don't know; the "on" button to these thoughts were switched when I was looking through a friend's Facebook. Get that, a friend. Sometimes, albeit friend or family, you can't help but feel annoyed/unjust/jealousy with another person's talents, opportunities, intelligence, whatsnots. I get really unpleased with myself when I visit this dark cold place in my heart where I compare my life to another person, thinking bitter thoughts, thinking that God has given this person everything, that life's just unfair. Then I check myself. It's a dreadfully difficult feat, really, but it has to be done. I check myself, and scold myself. I force myself to remember the lovely things that I do have and remember the friends I have, the secrets we share, the laughter we.. oh well you get the picture. I remind myself to be grateful. But above all, I remind myself, that nobody's life is perfect. Not one bit.

I used to think a friend of mine -not exactly ONE friend, but a cumulate of all my once-thought-to-have-everything-friends - was just dreadfully lucky. This friend has everything money can buy, this friend has riches, looks, talents - you'd think that God was darn happy when this friend was born. But well, behind every person there is a story. Be it that this person has lost a loved one, or this person comes from a broken home, or this person might've suffered from a disease, every person has a story.

I may not wanna believe it, but I'm pretty lucky. I'm lucky I've never had a disease or illness (God forbid I'd ever have *cross fingers*), I have never had to beg for food, or money, I've never had to live in a brothel, I've never had to go without necessities, or even some of the material goods I have. It's just so easy to count the shortcomings, because they bite at us, everyday.

Count your blessings instead(:

Labels: Reveries

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