with great intent
my person is an insignificant one. there is no single purpose to flesh out the various impersonations i have done to appease the lot. the idea that i am however speaks more than i can ever hope to do with mere words, because i want better for our lives. i will do what it takes because i have an idea, i am an idea that things should not merely be this. we can be great without sacrificing our soul, or our sanity, or our ideas, we can be greatness of the generation with our perseverance for the right things.
the person i am is no longer of value, but the idea i hold is to me the most precious thing. i cannot escape feeling hopeless in virtual perpetuity because of the people who are, but they may create that feeling, it is up to you to determine otherwise. in a place of virtually nothing, only you can pull yourself up when all the world does is hurt you or misjudge you or just plainly messes with you, moreover so if its the one you hold dearest.
that feeling that you are at the rocks and there is no fear at the bottom, that is where i start again, with tears and blood and sweat and all kinds of things they pretend some of us have and most of us don't. with bloodied knuckles from fighting all the fires they have set to the person, that's all we can do in this short life. and it is short enough.
with great intent it is with that we begin again and again and again. to bring out purpose in action. to bring out certain value and optimism in persons. to bring out the hopes and dreams of a people. we are the people and we hope and we fall and we pick ourselves up. we are the people, and nothing like those of the past. but every bit as significant. that is what we should do, but i do not see it in popular service, only in our own that we can undertake with confidence and stride.
we are the ones who walk the grounds and amble over the dead bushes. we are the ones who dare to jump off the cliff into the gushing waves. we are the ones who fought to protect our loved ones even when hope is naught. over and over again. we are the ones built from circumstances, not genes and these ideals are only known to those who had to make a bloody choice that killed them, to hold on when there is no hope and no future, nothing we can see. those who were pushed into the rocks and left for dead. those who were deemed hopeless because of a certain ideology. those who were toyed and pushed to the brink and did not yield simply because they couldn't.
it is with great intent it begins again. not as a person, but an idea. and like they said, ideas are bulletproof.