Kweens of the Ithuriel Animals

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Poem from afore Strokes; while in use of a concept of a soul

What are years when there is forever to complete your heartfelt endeavors. Be Strong, Be Wise. Never compromise.....your soul. Be whom you are. Disregard how others see you Learn how you see you. For this is the way to peace in your heart; to heart in your soul.

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  • on 1179191571:
    What are years when there is forever to complete your heartfelt endeavors. Be Strong, Be Wise. Never compromise.....your soul.
    I fear in the past I have compromisedmy soul too much. In my desperateattempt to please others, in order tomake them 'like' me, I wore a maskthat was not me and found they likednot me but my mask.Now those people mourn for a mask,mourn for Count Anton the ChaosMagician and other things besides,or other masks I have worn. Noneknow the real me, for I was too afraidto show them. Afraid they would notlove me for who I am. I fear not therejection of a mask, but the rejectionof my soul is a fearful thing in deed.Yet, if I let no-one see then my soulis wasted anyway. But how can I*be* myself? Or even *act like*myself? These terms are withoutmean because how can I be anythingother than myself, if I can be anythingat all? And acting is pretending, soto act like oneself is to merely pretendto be oneself, which is just anothermask, another role.To know myself then is perhaps abetter answer. To know my willand be true to it. To those thatcannot love me for that, neverloved who I really am, whereasthose that learn to love me for whatI am, they are my true friends.*****Nice poem, it seems to have triggereda stream of consciousness from me.I think I'll post it.

  • on 1179191571:
    What are years when there is forever to complete your heartfelt endeavors. Be Strong, Be Wise. Never compromise.....your soul.
    I fear in the past I have compromisedmy soul too much. In my desperateattempt to please others, in order tomake them 'like' me, I wore a maskthat was not me and found they likednot me but my mask.Now those people mourn for a mask,mourn for Count Anton the ChaosMagician and other things besides,or other masks I have worn. Noneknow the real me, for I was too afraidto show them. Afraid they would notlove me for who I am. I fear not therejection of a mask, but the rejectionof my soul is a fearful thing in deed.Yet, if I let no-one see then my soulis wasted anyway. But how can I*be* myself? Or even *act like*myself? These terms are withoutmean because how can I be anythingother than myself, if I can be anythingat all? And acting is pretending, soto act like oneself is to merely pretendto be oneself, which is just anothermask, another role.To know myself then is perhaps abetter answer. To know my willand be true to it. To those thatcannot love me for that, neverloved who I really am, whereasthose that learn to love me for whatI am, they are my true friends.*****Nice poem, it seems to have triggereda stream of consciousness from me.I think I'll post it.

  • glad you did *hug*

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