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Our intellect is the key to do goodness.
With the words of Quintilian... Or something of that sort... Be impossible to be misunderstood.
I'm like the knots in my shoe laces, unravelling and loosening the shoe, soon I may step upon the laces and find me on the floor.
Reality is as rational as how I make it. Yet as imaginary as every real number is. It's just complex. Full of irrationals that seem to make no sense but can be dealt with.
God is beyond awesome!
Ah to hell with this,
Some loves are born dead
They are meant to not live
It's not the same. It never is. Once motivation is gone, it's gone... And that someone is gone along with my motivation.
When you spoke,
I was starving for silence
Thus I ate my words.
I chewed them one by one
Until I swallowed them whole
my stomach rumbled
I felt sick of you.
Bless be I for feeling this pain
that in my chest originates
and for having this eyes, where the sky rains
for if it did not rain,
my life would be dried
and my heart out of emotions would be drained.
Who am I kidding? it's not the same