A creator in the makings

Dreams gives us the plane to touch the next impossible. Dreams are thoughts warped into a realm transcending time and space. Emotion is your light here - only by balancing it you'll find it turn to an illuminating white light and reveal truth. This should not be confused with what applies to our reality, but rather seen as a crystal ball of sorts - hazy, but with content that is quite real when read with an earnest mind. Simulation is a machine's dream. It's not quite aware of it, yet produces the very thing. We are aware machines that drift through their senses as Wisps. Lost, but content as long as not threatened or chained by desires. We lack control as long as we battle emotion instead of breathing with it. Without the balance of emotion, we may not achieve the balance of the mind. Without mind, there is no body. Without mind nor body, there is no anchor for the soul, and we drift in the sea of the lost. It's fine to be lost when done so willingly, but doing so

At its core, hate is fear that decided to fight. Encased away in ice and cloaked with fire. It's the fighting force of solitude, ice which burns and is merciless. One may see though the flames and the ice barricade, but it is weakness to let it be shattered by another. Only you channel your hate. Only thing more powerful than your hate is you yourself, for you have your hate alongside yourself against it. Hate yourself, earnestly. Did you fail? Despise the actions that led to it, but be fair, even when unfair, about it - hate needs to be justified for it to be fulfilling and lasting. Destroy the bits as is in order. When hating someone else, consider is action justified - not by the legal system, but by morals you are willing to support till the dying drop of blood from your spit. Don't forgive - it's not to be forgiven if deserving of hate. Thus hate justly. It's doubtful you will know how to harness hate. That is a feature to be hated, for misuse in this leads t

My reasoning and view is the not the only correct one - but it will ultimately be. See, you're not as good as I am. None of you are, not even combined. How so? Because I do drugs. And not just any drugs, but the ones that reach the soul. It's more of an art and less of a substance, with breath at its center. If you understand that much, your being is almost worth a fraction of a thought that I have millions of flash by by the second. This is arrogance. It's truth hampered by overestimation. It's a drug that can entertain a chain of thought to amount into something, be that another thought or a start of a project if not to further one. It's a tool which can be used to nail your fingers against a rock, or serve as fuel for the real flame that is passion. Arrogance can stem from success, hatred, even love - what is important is to realize what it is and then  use it accordingly. Recognizing it can be difficult if arrogance is a problem in your character. Arrogance

From the years past, I saw my own eyes looking back at me. First time in a while, I recognized myself and my gaze held no hate, being instead genuine. The face was weary, but not exhausted. Tired, but not one that wouldn't recover. There's hatred seething in my core. The face I saw was in the mirror, not myself but a reflection of a piece within. My journey has taken me through life of adolescence, crowned with a dream framed by reality of adulthood and shards of life. I am in there, not trapped, but observing. Not happy, neither broken, reminding me of strength that is my own. My heart still seeks its Abby. Not from the outside, but from the inside.

Is pain. From this stems my possibly twisted strength - lack of hurt. I have no greatest weakness if nothing can cause me pain. To achieve this, I must acknowledge the greatest source of my own pain - that would be emotional. Should the law stand that I may not gain without losing, would the leading conclusion be I must not feel to not be hurt? Stoicism tells otherwise. It's a tale of acceptance. Embrace the death of your daughter as your ally. I may not will existence into none, but it is a skill to face struggles swiftly without giving them any loose rope to pull with. Shoot me. It's already healing from the moment the impact is over - and the moment before is a flash that deserves nothing.

Fades with lack of emotion. We may attempt to feel what the writer wrote, forgetting ourselves. Reasons vary. Sometimes our own feelings are too much and we choose to live those of others instead - this becomes dangerous once we forget how we naturally feel and begin to feel as if we were someone else. At first it might work out, even for a long while, but degrade will eventually leave us faded, much like the music we initially loved - we no longer remember what we truly felt while listening. Colour is emotion. It can be restored with integrity, though even with earnest attempt success can elude us. Yet, this does not signify failure, rather, a path. Rediscovery of the self that was left behind due to the pain can be a feeling most magnificent once realized - the final challenge that must be overcome is accepting the notion that time was not  lost, rather, it took exactly this long to muster through, no matter how menial it might now seem. We are one spirit in a melody of time, and