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At end of celebration, solitude descends. Gazing at the starry skies, knowing that they are light years apart. The faint breeze brushing on my shoulders, cold and lonely, whispering stories that fell on deaf ears…Dim lights in the distance, warmth emanating from their joy. Across the vast fields, few hearts truly connect. Weeping under the moonlit shadow, I crave for that deep connection. Strolling down the midnight streets, with only the faint moonlight as my eternal companion. – In Search of Love and Understanding.


Let every wound become your strength, let every failure become your motivation; for all the evils of man fail to eclipse the eternal light of love… so let every pain and suffering become your firewood and your spark, and let every misfortune and despair burn to fuel the flames of hope…


The scars of the past can never be fully healed, nor can the evils of mankind be fully redeemed, but we do nonetheless hold the power to shape our future – to fill every moment with love and compassion, and to treat every life with gratitude and respect. We must regain the dignity that is lost through the demonstration of hatred, to unite within the peace of understanding, and to embrace the light of love that emanates of the warmth of compassion. Our time in this world is too transient to fully experience the joys and wonders of this universe, but it is never too late make a difference, for even the dimmest of candlelight can spread into a roaring flame. Let the light of love illuminate our future, and let the darkness of hatred flee at the break of dawn.



It is evident, through the prevalence of unnecessary suffering, that the world was not designed be good in and of itself purely of its own virtue – rather, our world was designed with the intent for love and goodness to be realised within, rather than presumed to be given. So refrain from complaints, and shun away from despair; for your freedom to love is the only key to actualising the purpose of the good within this limited, yet perfect universe.


The more one tries to smile, the more sadness one is trying to conceal. The more one feigns well-being, the more scars they are hiding underneath. An overall state of despair can never be healed through segments of superficial joy; joy that does not shed light into the depth of one’s soul, joy that can never overcome the nightmares before dawn.



Sometimes I really wish to live a lifestyle of the past, a genuine lifestyle of true bonding between human beings and a closeness with nature and all its inhabitants…a lifestyle void of all the distractions of modernity and the false desires of consumerism…a lifestyle that is as relaxing as the gentle breeze, as calm as the clear water, and as warm as the crimson sunset – a moment of peace if I may ask for…lying on a sandy shore, the sound of the breeze brushing through the alpine forests, with the faint whistles of gulls above, and the gentle whispers of a ocean far away…

That light…from a distant world far away, that pierces through my empty faith…As I drove down the idyllic way, recalling dreams that were ever away…I hear the colours of profound happiness, resonating deep within my weeping soul. I try to gaze across the past and future, but faint blue is all I see…The moments before dawn, walking along the breezy shore, the sound of the blue whispering in my ears as I sat by the driftwood, tending to my fears…The moments of perfection flash before me as the stars of the twilight flicker in the distant horizon. The colours of happiness I try to piece, with the fragments of dreams from the world away…I see the colours of happiness.


Love…not hate…for our time here is limited. Life is too short to harbour hatred and disdain, please treat it with kindness and compassion, and please fill it with happiness and satisfaction. A thousand autumns have yet to come, but our moments here may long be gone…


We must not live in fear, for life is too short to be buried under cowardice. Fear is the jail of freedom and the demise of love, shivering in the uncertainty of fate, we cease to believe in happiness, and we lock our faith beneath the darkest corners of our hearts; for deep down, we are alone, and we are afraid, we have paid the price of trust and sincerity, and we can no longer afford the cost of betrayal. But hope is not lost, as long as one is willing to give a chance to possibility, the possibility of love, compassion, and understanding without misconception.


Sorrow and misery shall forever beleaguer those unfortunate enough to have caught a momentary glimpse of perfection, for his greed shall lead him astray, abrogating his worldly duties… Craving for what lies beyond this world, he thirsts for more; he reaches out to eternity, struggling to clench onto that light within his fleeting existence – to catch a glimpse into the mind of God, only to be blinded by His eternal brilliance…


Hearts void of sincerity can never uphold any eternal significance of life, for the mediocre merely laments the transience of happiness, but unbeknownst to them, it is precisely their worldly attention of the finite present that deemed perfection to be unfathomable. Thus, they surrender to destiny, bewailing fretfully at the flux of fate. Bathing in the illusion of significance through their meaningless suffering, they forsake their dreams, and submit to their lower desires…But the world remains perplexing to them; failing to acknowledge the meaning of suffering, they await anxiously to their liberation from melancholy. Thus, they embark upon a hedonistic journey, following the path of least resistance in rapacious hope for a life that they never deserved, only to be crushed under the wheels of fate. They collapse in despair, ignorant of their unworthiness, they condemn the will of God for their misfortune, but never accepting responsibility for their own cowardice. Such is the essence of mediocrity – mediocrity is but a choice, it is the rejection of responsibility, the volition to be fixated upon a transitory reality, to replace one’s wildest dreams with routine functions of a mundane reality, and to continuously take for granted the blissful reality of being alive, yet to demand in a never-ceasing greed for what they never deserved. Thus, to the mediocre, happiness is merely a result of chance, for their hedonistic greed deprives their life of any significance – reveling in this ephemeral pleasure, true meaning shall perpetually evade their finite horizon.


Few realities on Earth are more disheartening to the gracious soul than the witness of suffering of the virtuous while the faint music from the bacchanal where the unscrupulous and depraved, celebrating their worldly success, shamelessly linger in the distance. Happiness often eludes the virtuous, while euphoria often pursues the depraved…in this world, justice is seldom served, this is why I believe the existence of an infinitely perfect God may be morally necessary, for no righteous soul shall be delighted by the prosperity of the wicked, nor may their minds rest in peace knowing that the suffering of hunger and the frigidness of winter continues to fall upon the sick and homeless.


The world is a lonely place, even though technology brought us closer than ever, our hearts have never been so distant… I gradually developed a deep connection with nature, with the trees, the birds, the crimson sunset, and the starry skies. This moment of solitude is where one is truly at liberty to appreciate the world with one’s most earnest heart and soul, to “truly see” our world as the magnificent creation that it is – a world of harmony, without conflict, without separation, and without sadness – and occasionally for the fortuitous beholder, to catch a glimpse of perfection…


Fortunately, the only dreams I endure through the night are nightmares. I am always relieved by the break of dawn where my conscious ambition of a prosperous future pierces through my caliginous past, flourishing within my world as I take one small step further every single day, and with each step I take, that light becomes brighter and warmer.


“All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible.”   - T.E. Lawrence

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