Know that you're a WINNER

Life is nothing but drag. No matter how beautiful you try making it. Its going to find ways round and around just to stab you. From the back, if your busy fighting it in the face. And, life's powerful. The world's going to be dark. And, terrifying. You might sometimes want to kill yourself and get away with all the doomness. But there's no escape even then. In fact, there is no escape at all. Then there's just a way. Its going to be like a bridge, the only mean to survive and get passed all the uncertainty, distrust and rest of the shit life gives. All your life, whatever you've been doing is trying to cross the bridge.

The hurdled, frightening bridge.

You've been conquering it since you first got on it. You've been the winner ever since. 'Cause you're living. You're a winner. If you realize this once you'd know then how much you've achieved up till this point in your life. And that is when you'd know that nothing can now stop you being a winner. You were meant to be one. The way you laughed all the way living, expresses only your divinity. Your a conqueror. Divine if you face it with a man's heart.  You were meant to cross the bridge. The petite things in life should mean nothing more than dust that comes along with the winds while your in the pursuit of living. Everything else is all shit. The main paraphernalia is to live. Your a winner if your alive. Just keep alive.

People get dispersed into the shit life gives them that they completely forget the true meaning of it. They are the most unfortunate winners. 'Cause they lack the mightiness of enjoying their own victory. They are deprived. They are the worst sufferers. 

Know, that your a winner. All your life. Know that.

Beauty

There comes a phase in life when agony seems boundless. Little by little, leisurely turning into depression, hysteria and rage. And just when you think its over, you realize it was the very beginning of another, even harder phase. Its quite rare that people understand what actually is happening to their life. No wonders, why. The agony itself is maddening.

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Being the sixth child

They say the youngest is always the most loved, the most cared and the most spoiled. I say they are wrong.

Spoiled? Maybe yes. But the most loved? I strongly doubt that. Being the youngest of the family myself, I'm not merely saying all this but have actually observed, seen and experienced each bit of the course.

Each one of us, who has any sort of experience of seeing the first born of the family, their self  or in their family, whatsoever knows very well what attention, love and care the first baby gets. Attention, 'cause he is the very first child experience for the parents. Love, cause that baby made a woman, a mother. A mother in whose heart lies a billion unsaid, unexpressed emotions. She savors in herself the divinity, the most strong love ever existed in this world - the love of a mother. The first child is the first person who experiences the very divine love.

Then comes the second child, for whom the attention exists, so does love. But divinity, maybe not. He might be cared, he might be loved but he lacks the enticement his parents had experienced already with the first born. He is not the child who made the parents a mother and a father. He is not the child who made the parents enter the new world of livelihood, family and responsibility. They were already there. And this is the reason why he lacks a verve. A slight one maybe, but he lacks the energy.

Up to the parents choice, there comes the 3rd, the 4th and the 5th child. When they slowly and steadily, slack the love and the attention for the new arrivers.

When for the sixth child, the energy is lost to a level that the baby might not even bring joy. Up till that time, the parents are aged and feeble. Forget the weekly outing, the sixth child is even deprived of the general, very necessary candidness between the parents and the child.

I say its better to love a child, love at its max. Even if its just one child.