Throw a bucket of water on a colour stained wall and see how much washes off.

The remaining few are the real ones.

How few flowers are offered on the table.

Or nothing even.

Or faded image on what was supposed to be painted in bold.


You learn to discern like dividing peanuts on a table.

That numbers usually are misrepresentations or frauds.

So it’s no longer binding, in fact it’s so loose, it makes you wonder about the loose description of covalent bonding.


Twenty-three happened and I saw that it was nuance.

Comply, don’t comply, irrespective of your actions the results are the same.


I’ve made up my mind.

I won’t bend over backwards to adjust the equalizer for anyone to clear my name.

I won’t climb ladders ever if it’s for the sole purpose of polishing my name.


The jigsaw puzzle cracked, the skies fell.

Like the scene from the Hunger Games, when Katniss shot an arrow to the sky and destroyed the arena.

Sun rays bombarded the delusion that was my perspective.


Don’t be afraid when you’re an exile.

A beggar, a prince.

A peasant, a king.


Twenty three, what’s important and what’s not.

What’s real and what’s fake.


Myles Munroe said

kick the door open, and shout

you better enjoy me while you can, because I’m going someplace else.


Imagine object, large size.

Then imagine the shrink gun from Despicable Me.

Said object, shrinks.

Seven billion and counting, values all the same.


Whispers, shouts.

Mute, earthshakingly loud.


I learnt life lessons on my twenty-third birthday.

Humble yourself.

Discern what’s real and what’s not.

Don’t ever be afraid to trash what’s not.




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