Reflections of the Self

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How many times will you whip yourself with words, will you look upon yourself with contempt for that failure in enterprise, socially, in life. And what did you learn? Did you learn you cant be trusted, or did it put the cat amongst the pigeons and you decided others could not be trusted? Did it make you resent yourself for your shortcomings or did it propel you to make a change. Steps. In time you will heal and learn to trust yourself again. In time you will commit again, believe again, see again, and execute again. Yet if you are allowing the fear to compound, whilst others ridicule your misadventures with comments about your failed attempts, just remember that within every failure is a lesson. Who you become is a product of who you have been, what you have seen, and the lessons you learned from the self you were. I made so many mistakes in life whilst building my network, at times i became frustrated with myself because i was so socially awkward from dealing with others who let the stench and residue of pain contaminate how they dealt with me interfere with interactions. I learned to understand, the world is not a good place, or a bad place, and sometimes the worlds we create for ourselves externally are reflections of the worlds we have within. The things we say, the things we believe in. When you are done whipping yourself with words, and you remember even a small nugget of glory, celebrate it. For we are all fragments of glass being pieced together one experienced at a time, and when we become whole is when we see our true reflection.

Outside of E=Mc (squared)?

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There is a fiction told that certain things we want to accomplish in this life are impossible. Impossible is positioning, impossible is planning, impossible is network, impossible is investment. Oh? They usually dont think that far, it just sprouts from their lips. Its impossible. Yet the wright brothers be;lieved that they could fly and now we have aeroplanes, men walk on the moon, there are towns and cities structured and designed, from the construct of an architect and his/ her pen, ideas put together by inventors. When we come across these impossible people, politely inform them that impossible is you, not me. There are so many things that can be done under this sun, amazing things, new ideas and collaborations, people coming together from different coming together, global impact from cohesive thinking and strong leadership. Is it safer to believe in a world thats impossible or cling to the fringes, daring others to challenge your sanity. After all Einstein was seen as a madman but for anything else to be E= beyond Mc squared generations later we question this. So who is mad, those who trial and fail to learn more, or those who rot in the safety of what is comfortable.

Gliding past the Mob

  It is easy to join the mob, what a racket they make, they are the loudest, so you think their voices are being heard, but beyond those dulling echoes there is a different sound. The sound of their fear like a choir, it choruses the skies, rings like a shrill bell, and announces the imbalance in their souls, the discontent. People often complain about following the masses , yet are so consumed with the concept of what the media or tv has replicated or informed them normal is. The question is normal has evolved so many times, and has become so liberal, everybody’s theory of normal is different. Yet there is one thing that society holds unto when they do preach about normal, a fear of someone who is different, the outsider, the individual, or the eccentric. If that person had more numbers and more people conformed or subscribed to their life routine, maybe they’d be normal and you wouldn’t be. I’m starting to question whether normal is simply the fear of what’s Alien and the ability to monopolise the numbers.

Purchase a copy of my ebook counting Pennies on Mars

Promise of potential

A promise of potential is what ive seen before,

do i promise my potential and ne’er leave the floor,

i hit the ground feet running,

with many  of my quirks,

and when i touch the moon

Thats when i’ll go bezerk.

Kiss it away

Theres a butterfly on your lips,

a vibrant jubilee of carnival colours,

flapping its wings red and white against the sting of the wind,

preparing for the sky.

A sky that swallows.

A sky where eagles flap tired wings,

there is a butterfly on your lips,

kiss it away.

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