Writer's photography

Three hundred and sixty five days ago, I found myself on the same position. The one where I sat on the most uncomfortable spot of my bed, stared at the pictured wall and thought. I cried, I prayed and I reminisced. I planned and I let go. then I said to myself, Happy born day Gloria.

It was raining today and I chose to spend about half an hour in the presence of nothing but rain and thunder. Lightning was bright; So bright it had my brain blank for a slight second. kind of like someone taking a picture with the flash on. It was so loud that I felt everything in me go silent, it was so alive I felt something new growing in me, love grew a little stronger, my bones got a little stronger and my mind became clearer. I took time to notice the change and realized, You created that. the melody was perfectly synchronized; I felt I was in the midst of a choir, it was beautiful. Dear God, at times we choose to forget your existence at times we feel it's best relating to ourselves rather than relate to you we feel it's alright crying on our friend's shoulders rather than yours, why is it that the same shoulders we lean and cry on, become the first ones to spit us out? I thank you for clarity.

See, there's forgiving , forgiver and forgiveness They all mean the same thing, defined differently, notice the lost meaning behind them? take credits for who you are.

the demeanor of life is, constant battles, yet we hold on, He's the kind to bring you anything, to give it all to you, why look else where ? He's all that you need, give it all, He has you.