My mind is screaming again
Cry, cried, crying;
When I was a child, I used to cry. I cried all night long, and sometimes in the day as well. Though the crying slowly turned into a thing of the past. Like any other male chauvanist would say, I learned to be a "man". Through the years, I slowly learned that a man still can cry, and by stopping the crying is not becoming a man. To become a man is to deal with the matters at hand with a strong and firm resolve. However, further knowledge brought be the revelation that it was not a man that was firm with resolve, but it was meant for all humanity - man and woman alike, they grow strong together. Thus, I am still crying, but only in my heart. But I now cry just for myself, to remember how I rose to be strong and to renew my strength.
Live, lived, living;
A child lives in a place full of tempetous and rancid provocations of society. They come in forms of emotions, prental care, adolescence, hormonal changes and many other aspects that make up the dynamic functionings of life. I used to live in a stereotype of a "good boy". Though, I realised that it was not my place to be a "good boy". I had ideals that reinterpreted the definitions of "good" and "evil" itself and I placed much more emphasis on the nature of manking that was ever changing with time. As if only a second had passed, I had lived the boy that was a son of parents that held expectations of a contemporary Chinese culture, and was spurred into a life of much more insight and introspection. I began my journey on the path of revealing the human mind and in search of a structure that would put both emotions and thoughts on the same rhythm and playing field. I wanted a playing field so that I could place my passion and intellect to full use, one that brought be satisfaction and a never ending perseverance to find new pathways. Yet, I have only started living that path.
Die, died, dying;
A child full of fear, touched by an angel of light, was at first hurt, but slowly began to accept the strange gifts that kindness could offer. A child from a place that ruled with fear and stubborn, ignorant resolve, surely a place meant for only prisoners. Though, the kindness so strong, carried the child to one cause - death. In the end, he did die. Though, he rose as a child embeded with the hints of kindness. Though, he carried a different kind of shine to him. His reflection was one of fear and happiness. He had died before, and was no longer afraid. But, for his past was still with him and he had yet to fully comprehend the importance of a history as dark as his. Until he truly uses the past for the better future, a part of him will always seem merely dying.
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