Letters {Number 40}

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My Dearest Love,
Recently I found myself absentmindedly sitting and listening to ticking of the clock. Its steady pace and lulling rhythm make it so easy to forget what is actually happening. Each tick, each tock build up and up and up until they explode into eternity; etched in forever.
Patiently,
Your Dearest Heart

—- —- —- —- —- —–

My Dearest Heart,
It is never easy to give away something so precious as love. It is as if you are giving away a very real, very tangible part of yourself. The care it takes just to bundle it up is enough to cause the sincerest of doubts. And of course, once it begins it’s journey, there is no return to sender.
Ever,
Your Dearest Love

Copyright © 2014 Tamika Brown and TheFynePrynt.com

Image: @ThaFynePrynt

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When They Reminisce Over You

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As we dress it up, add color, remove stains; the past takes on a peculiar beauty. It is still as the eye of the beholder would see it but if shown to others it would not be recognized as actuality.
Perhaps this is what is happening to YOU, about me.
I AM me today. And although I was me yesterday, and days and years past, it is not the SAME me as today.
Denying a person’s PRESENT truth is perhaps the best way to let them know that you do not care. Thinking of THEN, layering it on NOW for the benefit of your beautiful dream serves good to no one.
Being unwilling to make today ABOUT today is evidence that perhaps the PAST is all that you deserve TODAY.

Copyright © 2014 Tamika Brown and TheFynePrynt.com

The Daily

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It’s so impressive how busy-ness can so swiftly and succinctly take you off course. After a “busy” week I’ve realized that four days have passed without a single post! {the horror!}

And it’s not just that I haven’t posted but I only *finished* two creative “thoughts” in seven days! It’s interesting to undertake this personal challenge of writing here every day because I realize just how easy it really is to set aside personal pursuits for necessary ones.

This dis-pursuit brings all those self-help and how-to pieces into greater perspective though. Notions such as time wasters; creating and committing to priorities; and setting aside time to follow through are all necessary to being {or becoming} successful.

I will do better!

And so ends today’s random thought-burst.

Copyright © 2014 Tamika Brown and TheFynePrynt.com.

Oceans

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To what depths can love carry you on the expanse of it’s wings? Beyond the shallows of lust? Sinking past the midlevels of like? Rushing towards the ocean floor only to find that it goes deeper still?

Sailing to the ends of the earth in celebration of an indescribable feeling then back again at it’s inevitable demise. Trading that trip though for nothing that can bought or sold.

The end of love is the beginning of a new life, a new set of wings awaiting their first flight. Ready to venture to the depths that only love knows.

Copyright © 2014 Tamika Brown and TheFynePrynt.com

Photo: Cara Moulds

Be

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This moment is for living. Be engulfed by its warmth, it’s brilliance. It’s magic and singularity will never come again.

Be windswept and audacious, be awestruck and be kind. Make music and cause laughter, make love and be divine.

Ask questions and never settle, be inspired and be an inspiration. Learn when silence is golden and when it’s necessary to be loud.

Do what brings you joy. Take small steps towards big goals and dive headlong into dreams.

Let disappointments become stones to step rather than burdens to bear and look forward to tomorrow but do not lay bets on seeing its arrival.

This moment is for living. Be engulfed by its warmth, it’s brilliance. It’s magic and singularity will never come again.

Copyright © 2014 Tamika Brown and TheFynePrynt.com

Photo: wallpoper

Perspective

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same space
same time
same wanting
same touch
same kiss
same nibbles
same embrace
same desire
same thrust
same moan
same lingering
same pause
same grasping
same …

he left on 10
{“can’t wait til next time!!”}

she left on 2
{“absolutely never again”}

Copyright © 2014 Tamika Brown and TheFynePrynt.com

Photo: Josie D. Trudgeon oil painting