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In Her Hands: Bleeding Dreams (Ink)

 
 
Life seems, to most us, a monotonous system where one believes in a certain way of making a living or following a specific routine that has been set and travelled before. The system consists of being born and religiously raised to follow certain oppressive means of living and making it in life.
 Amongst a generation, born is a gene, amid the rational ones, who believes that climbing the same train that has rotated and still rotates in the destinations that are deemed to be of efficiency or of the “qualified,” is somewhat adamant to what she believes in. that gene doesn’t only exist in myself, but abides  in most of us.
 
Fear sometimes skips a generation, but in times that we live in, it is imposed and lives in every generation. The other imposes it then it transforms to be self-imposed fear. Courage, however, does not find comfort than fear does in such minds, for it is not a quality that religiously lives in the life of a black man, as it is considered a danger zone, more like a blinded visionary.
Our dreams bleed the minute we allow the perceptions of others towards our dreams pierce the flesh of our own dreams. It is not a rare occasion that one is not taken serious when she tells their relatives that they are writers. Dreams that bleed internally create pools of forgotten dreams when one allows external forces to be determining the journey towards success but not the journey of bleeding inks that reminds others of their dreams, the forgotten or lost ones.
 
We all have dreams and not all of us will have the same dreams, even if it happens the destination is the same, the journey won’t be the same. Not every road has promised jobs, some roads have business ideas, some have PhD’s, some have jobs to create and some have not been found yet.
We all dream, but not all of us experience the same subconscious. Some have visions in the dreams, maps. Some have nightmares and some have white or dark walls.
 
Everyone carries their own burden, some of us carry the burdens of dreams, those dreams have bled both internally and externally, but they now carry bleeding clocks in our hands called ink that travels through times of 2 lives and an infinite strives. They fit in the life of one who has never journeyed through multiple crossroads. In your hands you have bleeding dreams, but your weapon, the mind, determines its survival or its extinction.
 

“Never was a blind person blinded by the light that overwhelms his skin but blinded by the darkness within” – Go_Itse

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