He was a powerful man who believed I should transform myself into a delicate flame.
He taught me that the translation of thoughts into words is the most complicated thing to do; for sometimes we magnify an atom with our words, and at other times we summarize the chaos of thoughts in a couple of words, thus being unjust.
He took a firm grip of my hand and told me to consider people’s feelings; for words to those are weak can break them. And to those who are tyrant, it would intensify the monsters inside of them.
He handed me a sword to hide behind my back, because kindness can be mistaken for weakness.
“Never initiate a war, and never support it” he said, but being powerful is knowing exactly when to fight back.
He told me that mastering my brain means conquering the world, and understanding my heart is the weapon for that.
“The expression of feelings is healthy,” he whispered, “express them to the fullest; because the regret of feelings being repressed is greater than the regret of expressing them.”
He wore a mask of firm looks and carefully instructed me, “we only learn to love by loving ourselves first; we lose ourselves if we love others more. And the great love of oneself teaches us our value and what we deserve, which results to better relationships with our loved ones.”
I thanked the powerful man who had fire in his eyes and a sweet angelic smile, held my sword and embraced him goodbye.
I keep his words. I keep them in the heart and mind.
© 2012 ALIA SULTAN