Tag Archives: optimism

A little Encouragement!

This is something to keep all those wonderful and rebellious women going.

I hope you have a good time reading this.

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True that

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This reminds me of Barney Stinson 😁

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Absolutely.

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Own it my friends.

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And so I said. 😜

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Dangerous indeed.

And all I got now is, you girls rock.

Have a good day guys.

Still I rise!

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
’Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
’Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise

I rise.

-Maya Angelou.

And thus I love this woman too.

SEVEN B&W Photos; Day 6

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The colors are really important, it changes your life, the way you look at it.

Some might think that this is a picture of a full moon night, and some might perceive it as the bright and radiant sun.

I am participating in the Seven Days. Seven Black and White Photos of Your Life. No People. No Explanation. Challenge Someone New Each Day.

Today I nominate Ann Maria from https://annmariasite.wordpress.com/  for this black and white pictorial challenge.

I still respect my beliefs: You do it or not!

I hate hose people who do not accept other’s views.

It’s okay if you want to be pessimistic, if you are of the belief that thinking negative all the while, makes you overjoyed when something good happens all of a sudden. It is okay. That is your way of living life; your beliefs, and I do not interfere with you. Okay, I do try and pull you out of that pessimistic zone, giving may be a lift to your mood, or a little positive thought, but I don’t just disagree with you. Do I?

Then why would you not just give my way of life a chance? I am not saying you follow them, may be just accept that I have a different way of thinking things.

Okay, even if you don’t want to do that, then in the least possible means, at least keep shut.

What gives you the right to take away my beliefs from me, my faith with such mean words?

*

I am sorry this may not a good post for reading but this is the least thing possible that my mind can rack through today.

 

The Strength of a Flickering Candle.

She was sitting there, lost into her gloomy thoughts. The room was awfully murky, and the darkness helped her hide from the light. Tattered as she was, so were her thoughts. Her appearance was no less depressed with rugged hair, with the black dress, and with face as dull as her feelings. She clutched onto herself, at a shuffle of sound, dreading anyone’s presence. She needed no one at the moment, she knew the amount of pessimism people brought to her, and she was also conscious of her own tumultuous state. It was all plentiful.

Lying down, she shut her eyes, as if the room was not dark enough. Taking deep breathes she suddenly felt the loss of air, the need for cool air. And there it was, a sway of cool breeze through the window which had been kept open in the dark of the night.

Only then with the flicker of the light did she realise that there was a candle far away in the room, barely alight. The wind blowing now was making it harder for it to be kept lighted and she did not even wish it to be lighted. But no amount of wind could blow off the candle. It almost got burnt out and then just when it seemed that it was out, she would find that it was still alight, barely alight, but yes it did have the vigour and the desire to keep itself lighted which she knew she missed in herself.

A small candle which did not even have the needed amount of wax to light itself fought for the light that it wanted to spread in the darkness of the room, and there she was crouched at the far corner, hardly breathing, hardly wanting to live.

If the candle could put up a fight, so could she. She would reignite herself again; she would rise up and not let any sort of obscurity win over her. Not this time. She would keep her life lighted from then on. And there just when the candle burnt itself again and gave the brightest light, she knew she was born again.

And as the candle went off, she smiled brightly, welcoming the dawn, her tears long dried and a face that had the power to conquer her world. Her soul set free from the chains of the darkness.