You know, I can never tell if sharing my thoughts and dreams with the internet world is a rediculous notion or not. I have so many of them, and often, they never make sense.
When I dream, I dream big. I'm a thinker, a muse, an "idea's man"- I have trouble seeing things through unless it's something I'm particular inspired by, passionate about or forced to do, but I cling to the hope that my dreams, my visions, can inspire others, and I think thats why I journal.
Beauty. Can one really define that word? It's not just about something that's pleasing to the eye, beauty is something that
moves the soul, it's a creation, a fountain of emotions and abandonment. - The sound of leaves rustling on the breeze on a crisp, clear summer morning, while a bird sings it's joyus song and the butterfly wanders across the lawn.
- The sound of waves crashing, a constant beat of assurity, upon the dark, slippery rocks and the lonely call of a gull.
- The smell of a lamb roast in the oven, the satisfying sounds of reliable, everyday sounds. A kitchen chair scraping across the tiles, the fizz and hiss of something cooking on the stove, the sound of your mother humming a mindless tune as she works.
- A simple piece of music that stirs more than mere memories of a love, or a loss from years gone by.
- The hug of a child, with their chubby little arms clasped around your neck and their innocent giggles of delight mixed with the impish glint of cheekiness in their eyes, large and at awe of everything in the world.
These are the things that inspire me. They generate hope. Hope, generates a future and a future generates a thirst for life and living.
Don't wait until it's too late to be inspired, to live, to have hope. Because the world needs your own, unique perspective of Beauty. Your beauty, can be someone else's hope.