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A letter to fill in space of the place...
Akta777How much wellness I wish you, Honey! :)
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Science fiction: The believable impossibilities The overflow of happiness and life in it...
Dear Honey,Here's is another letter from me, which I find you reading several times each day. Thank you for valuing my words.Happiness, happiness melts the eyes with joys. The climb is high, high and infinite. Your relation with self needs to be corrected too. You cannot take self for granted. You need love too.Your relation with self needs correction too. You cannot bury self to be great in hue. You need to address self needs and establish purpose for self. If you will follow the other, how will you self-express?Peace, pertinent pain—how will you heal? You rise high monetarily and leave the self back. Do not do this. Dare not put self in extreme misfit.When did you last attempt to understand the self? Your relation with self matters. How much? Don’t you even understand?You smile your way through day, remain busy in work and play. How much do you sit with you and ask self what needs, what plans it has for you? A disturbed relation with self is the worst reason that upsets and ta
Science fiction: The believable impossibilities Life begins with the roots in the soil of hope...
Dear Honey,You can be well, if you want to be well.I know you will recite this throughout the days and weeks.Here's your current letter:Mercy, mercy. The stars shine with confidence, not in stored mercy. There be revision in what you need, what you aim at to achieve. Mercy is cheap; you build self through repute. For repute, do not beg but yield. There is no mercy in store for thee. Create self, a power living being. Not by weapons alone can you win.Mercy, mercy. For the skies do not speak. Whom do you talk to, then? Whom do you repeat? Your health is the weapon you will use on self to yield. So, get up early to pray to self. Mercy, mercy. Why do you repeat? Mercy doesn’t yield happiness any. Disputes, disorganized living, deterrents, defects, and disease all need revision in the way you live, you eat, you think.You cannot beg the skies; skies do not speak. Who speaks? It is inside of you, your own instinct. Listen to it and then excel. Excellence is virtue; virtue is believed. M
Science fiction: The believable impossibilities Signs of recovery...
Dear Honey,Majestic, magnificent, miracle supreme. Sound invention. Who you are is what is created before your consciousness or after.You believe yourself. You build on self. You toil on heart. You reap great fruits as thoughts. You build on self. You need not be the fair one most. You can be what needs teach you.On the floor, you too need meals, security, sacredness. You cannot be expelled from the universe. Now you are a part of existence. You cannot be discarded, thrown, or lowered to extreme.Do not accept what religion has to speak. You build on self before begging the Lord for your dreams or your needs. It never happened when you, in school, failed despite your belief in Him. It will happen again if you depend for your health on divinity and do nothing to reveal strength within.You can be culture. You can be cause. But you shouldn’t creep. Ask for life. Do not stroll. Ask for peculiarity of justice. When the world lives, why should you not? Why do your cancer pains within th
Science fiction: The believable impossibilities When I Explain Honey...
Dear Honey,I see you healing more since ysterday. Here's your today's dose of positivity and stress-reducer letter:Wounds that do not heal soon will also be fine one day. You need not imagine an unhealed physical state. Power is within. Life needs a place to re-begin. You grant life that open space. Come cultivate good health on soil, and pluck up weeds that have long stayed.That’s life. That’s in life’s stage. We cannot counter self nor health, for the two links strong. Love of self helps heal the wound. Else what reason to your mind for healing with you give?Today, now, love yourself. Love be announced so that wounds all heal. There is scope for solitude to heal the wounds inflicted in crowd, in groups. I know you feel ill, but there is always a way to feel strong, not weak. You adopt the storm and rehearse practicing strength. You be the cause of right thought, that which mends.The pain in body spreads. Do not let it do so. You stay strong. Pain else hurts like insane. You need
Science fiction: The believable impossibilities I was a frog of my lab
No, not a rat! I hate rats! I was a frog in my lab. A stuffy, puffy toy! I could not understand both love and life. I was as if a cow in a decline. I loved her more, but I hated wasting time on her. She was my bit at my lab. My wife has been my assistant all my life. She was speechless in my busy schedule. Her name was Amy, but she was more present in my heart than on any outside floor. I adored her more than the time I had to utter this. I was simply a frog in my lab who lived and slept there.To be obvious, I would require some facts. Now, where had I kept my facts? Somewhere far from my shoes. My points were on a paper I took the printout of in a half-sleeping position. But raised enough to fall straight and sharp on the floor to be deep in sleep there. Ha!Let me organise myself a bit before I introduce myself. Yes! Now I am ready. The facts say I have done PhD with a gold medal, and I have worked in this broken lab for the past 25 years of my settled life otherwise. Facts also pro
Science fiction: The believable impossibilities When money speaks to a science addict…
Life is tough for the non-rich. I am not poor either. But then, I am also not non-poor in certain types of poverty misfits. For example, I need help to afford what I do not buy for my research. I am still determining when I will fully be back to ordinary work. But my inclination towards research says that it will be delayed a lot. I wouldn't be spiritually comfortable if I ever returned to a full-time job every day. Money was never something I ever valued. Otherwise, why am I the most underpaid worker in my eyes? Underpaid for, I cannot buy in ten years duty that for which I live to exist. I am so sorry about economics because it fails me as a researcher. As a person, I also fail when I cannot relax with things I want because they cost a lot.Money is for a purpose. The purpose fulfilled means no more need for cash. But my goal was to study for my whole life, which I cannot fulfil now, though my life is still incomplete by its end. I feel too sorry to express that I always struggled to
Science fiction: The believable impossibilities When I selected my research topic as: Cure of death
I wrote this poem for Amy and my life today:"Make mercy your choice. Don't decline in worth. Move straight up. That's all about right. Invention is mercy. Creation is a blessing. There is nothing left for life itself. There is peace for occupancy in every mind. We don't adhere to misfits. We speak of speech. But love declines with time. Adoration declines with time. We cannot worship dust. We created great. The cause of God's existence was not limited. We need to excel again and again. Furthermore, on the floor of life, we stay. Again. Yet again."I didn't show her with the fear to speak about it. I convey less to others. For I believe speech in excess creates tremors in my brain. A thought which I don't know comes from where. But I accept it as the best outfit for every new day. I know what dirt is. I worship food instead. On this floor of my life, I am not alone. Amy is with me. Though she is half better than me, despite all the misfits, I offer her to live with.Will I miss her whe
Science fiction: The believable impossibilities A long life and Electromagnetic field: A thought not dispute
What is in resemblance of peace? Where do ethics begin? Will I nurture good objectives by being selfish? If I fail, will I also be inevitable? What is the opposite of life? Death! Then how can death be for the good if life is its opposite? How can nobility shrink to be limited to a single grave? Where do I begin? Why should I end? The end of life is good. I need help understanding the concept of heaven even today. The bible didn't fail me as much as the bible was unable to stand the findings of my research.People cover themselves with the floor. Those who have next to nothing to support themselves. They, too, must live. I must live the storm if it helps fight the end somewhere. Life is hurting me at floor level. Amy is dead. I didn't kill her. She failed me in my desire to have a company in the future. The doctor says she was under considerable stress. They dug her up. But what's this? I can still talk to her. How? Whispers in my mind speak to her. That's because I am a patient with
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