Thought is an oil that feeds the mind’s lamp, sought by so many it is also feared by that many, an element that’s household of both HOPE and DISMAY , a clay molded by Determination and Will or Destiny , and designed having a potential to yield an unsurpassable triumph or a disheartening failure , it’s the same drive that inspires a serial killer and a saint, so obvious that thought is artists true paint, its useful and useless at the same.
This single line means a MILLION TO ME, just was compelled to share on my blog, when I happened to look into my old diary... I seriously don't know, from where I found the urge to piece this sentence but this has been the lighthouse in the darkness around my life, ever since.
Turning MindBlocks to My Blogs... an attempt to answer Failure and Question Success...