Letting It All Out
Most have skeletons in the cupboard buried deep never to surface for others to observe, life is strange we all similar, never the same yet we hide parts of who we are irrespective.
Look At Me I Am Perfect - You Ain't
Bad hearing, some never listen or pretend not to, what about you did sound advice get hinted around directed at you, no matter our age, suddenly repelled, pretending never heard.
White-eared Barbet - The Look!
Oh yes that most definitely is true in so many cases one has to laugh out loud at our own stubborn ignorance especially when a 'silver' thinking out loud, I don't need your chatting, I am listening to myself.
Special Time To Switch Off Sunrise To Sunset
Reaching the end of your spectrum, time to have fun looking in hindsight at expansive lives lived, not much has changed we all simply human.
Out Of Here With Something To Ponder From Long Ago!
Consider early poetry analysis pertains to all, once summed up at the end of the day....
"All the world’s a stage" - William Shakespeare
Infancy And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms; And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel Boyhood/Childhood And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Adolescence/Teenager Made to his mistress’ eyebrow. Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Youth Even in the cannon’s mouth. And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lin’d, With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances; Middle Age And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper’d pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side; His youthful hose, well sav’d, a world too wide For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice, Old Age Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, Death That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion; Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
Simply remember to whisper in the ear of loved ones; love got you here it will get you there too. Be exceptional, excessive, extraordinary, fanatical or whatever path you enjoyed, do share it quietly for them to smile with you too!
This post is for #SublimeSunday is inspired by @c0ff33a and #BeautifulSunday is initiated by @ace108.
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Thought for Today: "Bones and flesh of the martyrs lie buried in earth, but their revolutionary spirit and single-hearted fidelity remain alive." - African Proverb
