- It was scary at first, but every great thing starts out a little scary, doesn’t it?” Unknown
- “She was an echo masquerading as a shadow and she followed me just the same. The night and its moon were her favor while the sunrise and sunlight the daggers that sliced her to ribbons. She looked through half closed eyes at a blind world filled with wide eyes staring at walls. She felt pity with no care while around here steamed a burden too dense to bear. In the hours before dawn her tears slide to her jaw as a soft song escapes from between her cracked lips. A barbed song of glory and woe that hugs her tight and steals her breath, each line a quiver, every word a bind. A cage in her image meant to be broken. Destroy and recreate, scar after scar shallow and deep, her dreams were her life and the nightmares her sleep. Dark circles under eyes that truly see, time while awake moves more slowly. It trickles past her, eroding her being and pulling on her delicate seams. She unravels a little each day, tucking the threads back in every which way. In the night she is flawless and clear, the moonlight dancing in swirls, throwing half formed monograms against her wall. She traces these curves and whispers her story, an imprint in an ocean of churning shadows. Her imagination plays a scene of a teary-eyed embrace on the shores of a former dream, where droplets of her soul fell wildly below, where they and her became a part of a much larger whole. A smile rips her taunt and clenched face, the memory of the feeling of an unreal embrace. She holds herself tightly in a corner with no light and shudders with every pinprick of the downpour of night. Though muffled by the glass of her self imposed flask, she hears the birds singing their song, the natural alarm of impending light. She waits patiently for the sun, counting the half seconds and making time slow, her grey eyes less than aimless and staring at the clouds. With half closed eyes now shining a golden haloed blue, she watches the sky change colors from soft to brilliant hue. The flood of life and color takes her by surprise every day and which way. The rip cuts a little more, her restless thoughts take note and pause. She just wants to scream. To swallow the vibrant light and flood her veins with all the color ever seen, a strange desire to fix what is broken and yet wanting to break. She loses count of the seconds in the wrinkles of her palms, mere dust to wind, ashes to gale. She recites the deadly seven and stops at lust, how different from love while still the same in a twisted way. Her knees press against the worn, wooden floor with no intent to pray, she just wants the numbness and the pain. There are some things right and a few that are wrong, feeling the breath of freedom tapered against the need to belong, The sun now vomits its light across the cragged horizon, illuminating manmade lines and verdurous fuzz, her rip widens in distaste and her mind frowns in disgust. Her heart hangs limp as a shattered mirror reflecting its own cracks, each inaudible beat a glimmer of a glimpse of something more than her created deceit. This is hope. In a fragile and faceted way, the reflects are abyss and ascension portrayed intertwined with no ties holding them together. She is the half second of the transition of the beat, the moment her heart begins to flex and show more than bones and maneuverable meat. She wonders about the subtle difference between spirit and soul and whether she needs only one or both to be whole. Shaking her head as if to dislodge her thoughts, they steer from the tracks and tumble and crash, destruction and turmoil birthing creation and a new path. She thinks about the way she thinks and comes full triangle, it feels right to be so jagged rather than unburdened as a circle. With a sigh and a breath, she stands against the weight of her shoulders and the unbalance of her feet. Her half closed eyes slowly fade to grey as the light and color in the sky changes and decays. She is the moments before the sun rises and sets-1-2-3” ― Hubert Martin
- “To radiate joy is to reveal deep compassion for hurting people” ― Sunday Adelaja
- “The brittle seeds remained inside my soul, my tears the water that begged them to grow. And though I hate to admit it, you are my sun. Your light and warmth the last variables needed to see the seedlings burst and anchor. The roots in my soul, the flower and fruit in yours.” ― Hubert Martin
- Power is not revealed by striking hard or often, but by striking true. Honoré de Balzac
- Talent is a long patience, and originality an effort of will and intense observation. Gustave Flaubert
- “Divide the constant tide and random noisiness of energetic flow, with conscious recurring moments of empty mind, solitude, gratitude and deep…slow…breathing. Of this, the natural law of self-preservation demands.” ― T.F. Hodge, From Within I Rise: Spiritual Triumph Over Death and Conscious Encounters with “The Divine Presence”
- Champions aren’t made in gyms. Champions are made from something they have deep inside them – a desire, a dream, a vision. They have to have the skill, and the will. But the will must be stronger than the skill. Muhammad Ali
- “She had the blood of the sun running through her veins and the dust of stars at her fingertips. Her every breath birthed new cosmos and her thoughts were the super moon of the darkest night. Every word was a supernova and every step an inescapable singularity. Her touch though…it was soft.” ― Hubert Martin
- To define is to limit. Oscar Wilde
- People do not lack strength; they lack will. Victor Hugo
- “I spill my emotions and hopes on pieces of paper and pixels of screens, combining and creating, merging traditional methods with artificial means.Words carved in ink and electricity to facilitate simplicity and eradicate toxicity. No matter what fashion, form, font, method or avenue, the simplest and most meaningful words remain ever so true; I choose and love, only forever you.” ― Hubert Martin
- “These places I traveled through, they were a lot like the people I knew. Some abodes I muddled about for a day or two, others entertained my thoughts for a year or a few. Each place and person gave me wisdom or growth, and, if I was lucky, sometimes I’d get both.” ― Hubert Martin
- Remember your humanity, and forget the rest. Bertrand Russell
- He who knows, does not speak. He who speaks, does not know. Lao Tzu
- Reading furnishes the mind only with materials of knowledge; it is thinking that makes what we read ours. John Locke
- A thousand words will not leave so deep an impression as one deed. Henrik Ibsen
- “At times you got to find the untouched parts within yourself to be able to discover the true you” ― Etheria Divine
- A ‘no’ does not hide anything, but a ‘yes’ very easily becomes a deception. Søren Kierkegaard
- “My body held on though I held snapped threads in my hands and patches of my flesh were missing entirely. I was proud of my little mess… all the mistakes, every scar and every tear, told a story of a life I was strong enough to bear. I wear a patch of pride upon my chest, showing all my self-glory of the good times and the rest.” ― Hubert Martin
- “His walk and stare. Was as poisonous as the air after a nuclear bomb.” ― sequence kye kenneth young
- “It was a slow fall, through warm experiences and good laughs. It didn’t even feel like love until I got to the end. Even then, it was not the hard surface of rock, but the scorching embrace of more.” ― Hubert Martin
- There’s always some truth behind “just kidding”, knowledge behind every “I don’t know”, emotions behind “I don’t care” and pain behind “it’s okay”. Unknown
- We can see through others only when we can see through ourselves. Bruce Lee
- Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself. Leo Tolstoy
- “On these days, I’ve never felt so hollow. Recollecting the many pieces of me that were lost in past sub-lives. They were the minor characters of my novel life, the sub-plots to the whole story. On these days I was the binding that held the book together, I was not the words.” ― Hubert Martin
- Curiosity is gluttony. To see is to devour. Victor Hugo
- God knows, I prefer people with anxieties, whose tomorrow is threatened by uncertainty. Albert Einstein
- Question everything. Learn something. Answer nothing. Euripides (See also: How to Ask the Right Question in the Right Way, entrepreneur.com)
- Be alone, that is the secret of invention; be alone, that is when ideas are born. Nikola Tesla