My Works of Letterings 2

Reality is defined as "the state of things as they actually exist." But can you prove it? It is impossible to tell what reality is. This is because of two reasons.

Reason 1: Reality is not real

Reason 2: If reality is real, everything is based solely upon perception.

1. Reality is not real, now that just doesn’t make sense. Here is a trick to help my argument. Stand in front of a wall where you cannot see around it and there are no windows. Now focus on one point of that wall, and don’t take your eyes off of it. Take three steps backwards and stop. Keeping your focus on that point on the wall, take three steps forward. Did you move, or did the ground move when you picked up your feet? Makes you think, doesn’t it?

Here’s the big question, without moving, what is on the other side of the wall? If you cannot see it, does it truly exist? If you go to the other side of the wall and stand facing the wall, does the other side exist? Your family and friends, if they are not there, do they exist at all? Does your mind make up an image of them? If you are staring at somebody and you turn around, are they there? Think about it, and see if you don’t look at people differently.

2. Now let’s say that I’m wrong, and that this is real. Define real to me. Everything that is and that has been has been defined and described was by a person. The grass is green, but who’s to say that it’s not purple? Maybe a duck is actually a rabbit.

Let’s say a child is born, and he knows nothing. Grows up with no outside influence. It is taught that up is down, left is right. The sky is orange, and that clouds are maroon. Then that child goes out into the world, and tells everyone this. Is he wrong, or are we the ones that are wrong? This is all based on their perception of life and ours too. Who knows, I don’t, all I am doing is trying to show you what I see.

Think about it……

MAHAZEN

My Works of Letterings!!!

Sorting through old writings,
Rantings of a young and wide-eyed youth,
Poems of illusions or of love,
May be be real but I don't know how.
Writings some might call uncouth.
Memories flood back to me
As I look through these old scripts.
Tortured soul,
Bit of an asshole,
But can't I be???
Myself!!! Me....
The stories of one to change,
Writings smart and strange.
Poems here,
Stories there,
A blurry time line now appears,
Can’t say I am pleased with it.
Such foolish words
Were written down,
But all in all I learned
That I could not have everything,
No matter how much I yearned.
I see my journey,
My twists and turns,
The worlds not fair,
But here I am,
A changed man,
Made wise by times of learning.
I learned from the error of my old ways,
Now in a new direction I’m turning.

- b e g i n n i n g -

Find...
The right path,
To your freedom

Move...
as one,
through the darkness
Wait...
Until the,
right moment dawns
Strike...
with all,
all you've got
That's a
START...
a beginning,
to the so called
END.