The Mind that Makes, and the Mind that Breaks...

The source of struggles is not the world outside nor even the actions of others, but the meaning I assign to them within my own mind no kind of raging storm nor fire’s breathe The source of struggles is not the world outside nor even the actions of others, it can shake the throne where reason sits and when thoughts are free and truths hold fast The source of struggles is not the world outside nor even the actions of others, the world may shift as the tides may turn yet wisdom stays where passions burn endlessly The source of struggles is not the world outside nor even the actions of others, the untouched by fate’s unfeeling hand like pain and sorrow, love and fear are echoes formed within my chest… The weight of any moment rests in destiny but in the interpretation I choose to give, that thing is neither pure nor foul until the mind declares it so The weight of any moment rests in destiny but in the interpretation I choose to give, until we take its nameless shape and cast upon it as friend or foe The weight of any moment rests in destiny but in the interpretation I choose to give, it is a harm inherent in the wound, or does the cut depends on how deep The weight of any moment rests in destiny but in the interpretation I choose to give, for nothing comes with meaning that are fixed, no kind of law ordains what must be felt… I do not hold the universe within my hands nor I can dictate its course but I can move to harmony if only I choose to, we pull the tide against its will even curving the river’s winding creek I do not hold the universe within my hands nor I can dictate its course but I can move to harmony if only I choose to, yet water bends only where earth commands, it does not ask to shift with cries I do not hold the universe within my hands nor I can dictate its course but I can move to harmony if only I choose to, time will pass despite our hands untouched by pleas and unmoved by sighs I do not hold the universe within my hands nor I can dictate its course but I can move to harmony if only I choose to, yet peace belongs to those who bend and who walk the path that life obeys… For the way I name my trials is the way I shape my joys and pains carving the path upon my future will walk, no kind of force beyond myself decides the weight I give to loss or even gain For the way I name my trials is the way I shape my joys and pains carving the path upon my future will walk, no hand but mine can lift the veil that tells me what deserves my pain For the way I name my trials is the way I shape my joys and pains carving the path upon my future will walk, for in each moment is a choice of mine, to frame, to name, to turn or to be free and receive peace For the way I name my trials is the way I shape my joys and pains carving the path upon my future will walk, no good, no bad, no fate is unkind just thoughts that shift with will alone but just reason’s hand that paints your world… Watchwords: What disturbs me is never the words, the actions, or the faces I meet The careless glance, a sharpened tongue, do I choose to grant them might Unless I choose to let in, unless I tell myself it’s so For who can hurt if I resist, if I decide that this pain is not worth it

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Here is Tikatarot, who dares you to answer the question, *“Who am I?”..*

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As and will always be reminding you to dream: *“As you are still the Master of your destiny and the maker of your dreams…”*