Lovely Little Words

Words From My Favs

Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark in the hopeless swamps of the not-quite, the not-yet, and the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish in lonely frustration for the life you deserved and have never been able to reach. The world you desire can be won. It exists.. it is real.. it is possible.. it’s yours.

Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged

I could die for you. But I couldn’t, and wouldn’t, live for you.

Ayn Rand, The Fountainhead

Freedom (n.): To ask nothing. To expect nothing. To depend on nothing.

Ayn Rand, The Fountainhead

Man cannot survive except through his mind. He comes on earth unarmed. His brain is his only weapon. Animals obtain food by force. man had no claws, no fangs, no horns, no great strength of muscle. He must plant his food or hunt it. To plant, he needs a process of thought. To hunt, he needs weapons,and to make weapons – a process of thought. From this simplest necessity to the highest religious abstraction, from the wheel to the skyscraper, everything we are and we have comes from a single attribute of man -the function of his reasoning mind.

Ayn Rand, The Fountainhead

Solitude is independence. It had been my wish and with the years I had attained it. It was cold. Oh, cold enough! But it was also still, wonderfully still and vast like the cold stillness of space in which the stars revolve.

Hermann Hesse, Steppenwolf

Annabel Lee

BY EDGAR ALLAN POE

It was many and many a year ago,

In a kingdom by the sea,

That a maiden there lived whom you may know

By the name of Annabel Lee;

And this maiden she lived with no other thought

Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,

In this kingdom by the sea,

But we loved with a love that was more than love—

I and my Annabel Lee—

With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven

Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,

In this kingdom by the sea,

A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling

My beautiful Annabel Lee;

So that her highborn kinsmen came

And bore her away from me,

To shut her up in a sepulchre

In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,

Went envying her and me—

Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,

In this kingdom by the sea)

That the wind came out of the cloud by night,

Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love

Of those who were older than we—

Of many far wiser than we—

And neither the angels in Heaven above

Nor the demons down under the sea

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side

Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,

In her sepulchre there by the sea—

In her tomb by the sounding sea.

Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.

Viktor E. Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning

Xoxox

Lindsay Reva

My Refection

Gratitude, don’t let me down

Hope, don’t leave me hanging

Rude, stay far away

Thankless, we have nothing in common

Brilliance, shine in me

Kindness, be my finesse

Mean-hearted, I know you not

Wicked, go mingle with other witches

Beauty, carry my words

Belief, don’t leave me, my soulmate

Hard, I am too soft for you

Doubtful, I am sure you will never have me

Goodness, how lucky am I to have you

Lovely, and why shouldn’t I be?

Unforgettable day, always and forever.

Xoxox

Lindsay Reva

First, Think

The first thought in the morning might be the most important one.

My eyes open and I remember that everyday is one day closer to death, yet I breathe. Gratitude.

As I lay there I feel the pull of my muscle scream to get up, to get out, to LIVE. Hope.

I roll to my side, cuddle my pillow, and become unbelievably happy that my pillow fits perfectly around me, just the way it should. Maybe one day it’ll be another human being! Believe.

My mind raced through the day ahead of me and dances over the scenes which I look forward to the most. Pleasure.

Before I get my lazy arse up I pray,

Thanks, for making me the happiest, luckiest, out of this universe thankful girl in the whole wide world. Knowledge.

Thankful that today is going to be amazing. But first, let me go back to sleep just for a few more minutes…

Xoxox

Lindsay Reva

Here, Take My Torch

Do you ever feel turmoil in your soul?

Frank accepts the mission that his boss has just given him, knowing damn well, that when he completes his job he will be less of a man in his own unforgiving mind.

Olivia tells her best friend that she will loan her the $1000, even though she knows her best friend is tilting dangerously between the tightrope of a drug addict and casual user.

Filipe holds Isabelle tighter than he had ever held his wife. Isabelle stands there after telling him they must not see each other any more. They would do anything for one another, but only in a world where love and happiness were forgivable.

The Caretaker leaves Jim’s house with $350 in his pocket. Alzheimer’s makes his secret safe. Except in his soul.

Jin gives the extra doses to his grandmother after she demanded it and weakly slapped him in the face for disobeying her. He didn’t want her to die. He didn’t want her to feel any more pain either.

Of course, these are doing the most ( I’m a writer, I go EXTRA!). You could be suffering from a cause much more simplified, or even more dramatic. The point is, human beings suffer because of situations that we can and cannot control.

My words will never amount to the perfect solution but instead to acknowledge that you are not alone and that you can make a change in your life or make better decisions. No one is perfect. Have you ever thought about the million different shades of sadness painted out on the world’s canvas? Whatever you are going through, know that someone before you has felt it, and if they can overcome it, so can you.

Better days are right in front of you. Look closely and you’ll see it coming like the first rings of illumination from oncoming headlights in the darkest Forest.

Or be like me and pull out your own flashlight.

xoxox

Lindsay Reva

white vintage triump sedan
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Little Things

Dust rose in the air like gold glitter. The floors were white slick pools.

The air outside was cold and dry. Sharper than a needle.

Wind could be heard from everyone sitting inside the building. Sometimes they imagined they could feel it. But they could not.

Except for the lonesome girl who stood in the exercise field staring straight up into the clouds. How beautiful they were, she thought to herself.

Snow started falling and before it reached her she smiled. The cold didn’t even bother her despite the fact that she was wearing a slim nightgown with socks.

Normal people would have despised her, but where she stood, she was safe from the outside judges. Inside judges didn’t care.

The first snowflake landed right below her left eye and was replaced immediately by a teardrop that forced its way out, down her pale face, and forever forward into the hard concrete ground.

Never in her life had she felt something as magnificent as the first time she was touched by a snowflake. Never will I forget, she promised. Never.

The guards called her and she shut her eyes. Back she went to a thousand more years of Solitude.

Goodbye lovely freedom, she whispered to the glitter and crystals that spun around her like lovers in a duet. Entering the door of her captives, she did not cry. Instead, she smiled because the moment she felt the coolness of God touch her face she knew that she would be blessed forever.

Blessed.

xoxox

Lindsay Reva

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The Hard Knock

He stood in the doorway with hair dripping wet.

She was tired in her bones. The hard part always seemed to last forever. Why was that, Theresa wondered. She flinted through memories that she would have liked to last forever but instead seems to dissipate like fog in the morning…

The time she celebrated her 23th birthday in the most expensive restaurant her best friend could afford. They giggled when the server had asked them to taste the wine before he served them two blood red glass fulls. They were used to bottles of Gin, not fancy waiters waiting for approval. Then there was the time when she went for a walk in the woods and saw a young man alone in his own peace, laying naked in the sunlight like a Greek God. What the hell was this weirdo doing out here, Theresa wondered. Something about seeing him and not being able to be seen excited her beyond her imagination. Then she remembered the time when a stranger had knocked on the door. That was a different kind of happiness. That happiness made her toes tingle. It was really too bad they couldn’t last forever.

She had been gone for so long that the sound of her best friends laugh couldn’t come back to her. Neither did she remember the young man’s face from the woods. At least she could still visualize the hair dripping wet… Eventually, she would forget that too.

All she wanted was a summer breeze or to be taken away by someone who she loved to a place she had never been. But she couldn’t. Happiness wasn’t ready to have her. So in the meantime, until happiness was ready, we had to make do with its evil twin brother, unhappiness. It all started with a simple wish.

She wished that one day she could have the world. That was suicide coming from a small rural town in the middle of no man’s land. For miles around her, there was forest, forest, and more forest. It wasn’t her fault that her father who had passed, was a hermit with absolute mistrust of all government entities, especially the heavy hitters like CIA, DEA, FBI. Those were the bad guys in his book. Everyone was out to get him. Thank God paranoia wasn’t in his DNA, Theresa thought.

Her mother wasn’t around, but she liked to fantasize about her. All that was left was a few blurbs from her father and a faded snapshot of a lady with a smile that created a thousand different stories in her daughter’s imagination. She was a dreamer alright. Maybe that’s what got her in trouble in the first place.

It had been raining for days. On the fourth day, while her father sat by the fire reading a conspiracy novel. Theresa’s eyes were shut, listening closely to the sound of rain falling all around her, and there came a loud knock on the front door. She couldn’t believe it. No one had ever knocked on her door. No one ever came. So she did the first thing that came to her mind. She ran.

He father was alarmed at how fast she made it to the door and foolishly opened it wide as if she were welcoming an old friend, someone she was expecting. Whose daughter is this? He pondered after the question of who the hell had found him. In fact, it was an absolute stranger. Middle-aged with a rough beard, but eyes that would always be described as kind.

Standing in the doorway with dripping wet hair, there stood a man in a green trenchcoat and an apologetic smile on his face. She stared at him and wondered if he was the answer that she had been praying for the last 5 and a half years.

I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m lost. His voice matched his eyes.

That’s all it took. Nothing more, nothing less.

One morning her father woke up. That same evening he would have a heart attack because another knock came to the door, this time it was indeed someone looking for him. It had been 15 years since he saw his daughter after he woke up in the morning to see her gone with the stranger who he helped out of the pouring rain.

Sir, your daughter is on the FBI’s most wanted list. Give me all the information you have. Or else.

O boy.

xoxox

Lindsay Reva

adult alone blur close up
Photo by Oleksandr Pidvalnyi on Pexels.com

What Makes You Happy?

Chemistry. Meeting halfway. Electricity. Buzzing in happiness. The warmth from sunrays. Going up in an elevator. Walking downstairs. The first sip of coffee.  Learning a new word. Getting all, and not nothing. Long hot showers after long hot days. Making strangers laugh. Creativity. Making friends feel worthy. Choosing good over bad. Comparing my past to my present. Chocolate chip cookie dough. Pretty thoughts. Pink doughnuts. Glittered roses. The way French kiss your cheek. The way American men shake your hand. The way Tahitian men raise their eyebrows. Chasing after prettier thoughts. Manifesting. Understanding sections to make a whole. Intellectuals. Laughing at my idiocy. Chocolate on my tongue. Remembering where my bruises came from. Finding my keys. Walks to nowhere in particular.

But what makes me the happiest?

Knowing that my life could be so much worse, but instead, I am blessed.

xoxox

Lindsay Reva.

 

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Ivan S Harris Photography

 

Never Ending Thought

Hello, my name is Laurence. 

It drove her crazy when she closed her eyes and still saw him. Sometimes she would get this itching urge to scratch her eyes until they bled. Whether she was blind or not, she would see him. Plus, she wasn’t crazy. Not yet. Her worse moments were in boredom.

She needed distractions.

So she did everything and anything to keep herself busy. As soon as she woke up, running shoes on and miles passed as the sun rose. Go to work and pave through the masses of paper that everyone else wouldn’t touch. Not to show off, only because she had completed everything else. She made it an absolute habit to say hello to everyone single stranger who walked past her in hopes of finding a new friend or the spark of a new conversation. Just one word, she hoped. She was overly polite and walked around with a smile on her face. Sunshine seemed to be all around her. Managers adored her openly but despised her secretly. They feared for their own positions. She made many friends and many enemies. It had nothing to do with what she was lacking. still, that was her outside life.

On the inside, she was fighting a war. Her only ally was to forget him.

Her downtime was a habitual struggle of finding something new. Learn a language, write a book, read the Koran, re-do her resume, contemplate what it would be like to buy a puppy. She would play her music loud enough to drown every thought. But still…

No matter what she tried in trying to exhume him, some voids were just impossible to fill. Her bathroom belonged to him. She would sit down on the toilet with her pants bunched around her ankle. A pit would form in her stomach as she remembers…Slowly he slid her jeans past her toes and kissed the inside of her ankles. When she settles into the steaming shower the pit widens. With a washcloth, he bathed her from head to toe, kissing the freckles on her right shoulder. Washing her hands was the worse. Hands on hands, wedding rings, smooth wet skin. 

Before stepping out of the bathroom she took a deep breath and remembered the day she opened the door to a young man with sandy blonde hair and green eyes.

Hello,  my name is Laurence. I have some bad news.

When she found out her husband of 17 years had died because a teenager had been texting and drove straight into him as he went for his daily morning walk, no thought came to her. Only numbness.

Yes, I know. I am a somber one.

xoxox.

Lindsay Reva.

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