Expression

And the question is not the devotion, but the question IS the action. You can feel the whole world in your heart but without expressing that world, no one can see it. You can feel eternity in your heart, but without expressing that eternity, no one can understand it. Not only so, no... You have to express it in a way that the other person may feel it, without such, none of it is complete, and none important, and none worthy of any value but to the mind of the beholder, locked up on the abyss of the lonely soul, complaining of not being understood, when in reality, you are the only person blocking yourself from being understood.

The question of efficiency isn't really efficiency either, it is merely the question of how much attention and heart you put in one work, and whether or not you allow yourself to be efficient. A truthful believe is that all human creatures are efficient by nature, for that is the instinct of life, but that we all block our own efficiency with horrible stupidity we learn later in life, laziness, laxness, rough and unnecessary emotions, etc.

We can all be devoted and efficient, if we wish of it so, only... somehow it will make us less human, more robotic, more functional, and less artistic.

The question about love isn't really whether you love someone or not, but whether that someone can feel that love. If he feels it, and feels the joy sprining from the attention of love, then you have succeed in loving someone. Otherwise, you can feel all the love in your heart, be tortured by it, hurt by it, crumble because of it, feel the youthful pain coming from it, but then never to really have loved. Maybe that's why we always question it, always wonder about it, always wanting ot know how to get through with it... how to express it... how to feel it...

Sometimes I really wish I can express more of how I am feeling through something other than just words. It seems like words are the only media to my heart, the only method for me to open up. Otherwise, I cannot. I cannot be the tender girl like most girls maybe, I am harsh, serious, and most of the times, not quite here. I am in there, in the depth of it all, in the depther of the mind, in the depth of my mind.

I wish I can express... But then, I know no better way... Then perhaps, it is time to just believe...

I used to believe that I was something special. Then, I had my crash down. In front of my parents, I felt the very sense of disappointment. The sense of being worthiless. The sense that I am, in reality, nothing more than a simple peasant. I'm no smarter, I'm nothing unique, I am.... just another sand walking in a sea of sands.

Then, I decided, that whether or not we are special depends not on what we are born with. We are special because we decide to be special. We are special because we believe that we are. Every one of us are special in one way or the other.

Special...