New Beginnings

What happens when the words

are carried on the backs of angels

and thread themselves like strings from your heart

to the edge of your fingertips

like consciousness translated into poetry

a spiritual essence poured out only to be confined

and restricted to the page that binds them

what happens when newness fills you to the brim

forcing you to walk into new beginnings

that this flesh has yet to verbalize properly

I have not the answers to these questions

not yet

just inklings of miracles

from black colored ink

and fire coated passion

on white paper.

Knowing Where To End Your Story

Good advice. I would add that for me even just knowing where my story will END helps me to find my way to the beginning. Usually, if I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, then I can write the story.

YOURS IN STORYTELLING...

Saving-Private-Ryan-5

The other day someone asked on kboards just what they ought to do if they knew where they wanted to END their story, but not where they wanted to START it from.

This is basically how I answered that question.

For me, a story is a little like a journey. It really helps if I know WHERE I want to start off from and WHERE I want to get to. It is kind of like that whole Google Quest map thing where in order to get directions you have to punch in BOTH locations to find out how to get from here to there, providing you don’t mind driving through that brand new school that was built last month and hasn’t made it’s way onto Google Quest yet.

:)

So – if, as in your case, I just DON’T know where I am starting from – I’d probably just try and…

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“Don’t be stupid”

I have one simple message for you today: “Don’t be stupid”.
What I mean is, don’t be foolish. Some of us are so “overtly intelligent” that we are unable to appreciate the little things, and the simplest of manners shoot past us like a bullet. We may know the intimate details of Pythagorean’s Theorem, but we are unable to comprehend something has simple as the music in the trees or the praise coming from the lips of birds. We’ll philosophy on evolution and even teach this in our schools and at the same time admit it’s just a theory. Yet, we’re unable to understand “in the beginning”. And despite how many times we wake in the mornings…the number of times the Almighty Yah allows the sun to dance once more in our faces…despite how many times we feel the wind on our backs I’m convinced, that because man will never know how to count his breaths, he will always be too stupid to count his blessings.