Thought Poker Thursday

#TPT [ 27.12.2018 ]

“ The village idiot lacks sense; therefore he is humored. A politician lacks honesty; therefore he is favored.

Shocking, the number of deals we have made with someone else’s devil. 

Viewing life through cloudy eyes is dangerous. You may end up mistaking a star for the moon, and the moon for a street light.

#TPT [3.1.2019]

” ‘Twas the dawning of a new age, the day we stopped mistaking planes for stars and started mistaking stars for planes.

Wealth cannot be priced, and poverty cannot be bought.

For all we know; the first man who warned the world of the drugs on the street was just a doctor who was pissed off that people were buying cures that he did not prescribe.

#TPT [17.1.2019]

“ We never forget two; the one who breaks our heart and the one who restores it. The tragedy is that more often than not, they are the same person.

There are a million ways to break a soul. But only he who holds the heart has the power to do so. Keep your head high, and your heart in your chest where it can be safe from those with dirty hands and bad intentions.

#TPT [ 24.1.2019 ]

“ We all accumulate a dust of truth each day, it is up to us to make a choice. Whether to spit it out, sweep it under our tongue’s, or inhale it into our lungs. As lies spread, soot builds and pollutes all who breathe in second-heard smoke.

Thinking that you know better goes from prerogative to purpose, when you start trying to convince the rest of us.

#TPT [ 31.1.2019 ]

“Question reality and watch how it unbuilds.

People don’t expect greatness from a pretty face. There is always an advantage in being underestimated.

You know its time to let go, when everything you love about them lives only in memory.

#TPT [ 7.2.2019 ]

” If by count age is measured, life is but one.

While a soul may grow old, the spirit always dies young.

It isn’t love or hate that fills a tortured soul, but a tornado made up of lies and repressed guilt.

#TPT [ 14.2.2019 ]

” If every sign were clear, our path would be effortless. If every path were clear our eyes would lose sight, and our legs would forget how to walk. If ever a sign were clear; the alarming nature of a self-disabling population.

A heart denied love, like veins dried of blood. Spirit denied freedom, like soul deprived of home. Tongue without taste; the appetite grows welcoming. When dissatisfied with the quality we compensate with quantity.

#TPT [ 21.2.2019 ]

” We are all living the same life in different scenarios.

She didn’t like tragic novels. She would read them from back to front, said that sometimes that was the only way to get a happy ending.

The muted-self is suicidal. Without acknowledgment; misguided and vulnerable it hides in the shadows.

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