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Cyril Cliffette
Some histories really exist worthlessly, not worth remembering, and yet they are written. Some dreams, seen with open eyes never come true, and yet people still dream and hope beyond all hope that ...visualizza altroSome histories really exist worthlessly, not worth remembering, and yet they are written. Some dreams, seen with open eyes never come true, and yet people still dream and hope beyond all hope that one day, some day their dreams would come true.
But along the way, people give up on so many things, sacrifice so much to get ahead of themselves and their past, drifting to set different goals and ambitions, lowering their own standards, and only a very few really obstinate ones stick to their own prized dreams and take the road less taken...
Of those little children sitting up, late at night, in their beds, praying for a happier tomorrow, those feverish breaths chanting, I was one as well. A little bit of everyone, but then I rose up and I decided to make my life better myself instead of praying to a God, my elders told me helps those who helps themselves.
When I was 13, I began weaving incomplete dreams and painting with my pen. Poetry was easier back then, passion natural for an ardent devotee I was once. In the family I was born into wasn't very competent so my aspirations met a hard wall, and I had to work against the resistance, since I believed in apologizing rather than asking for permissions, and one day I'll be accepted for who I am rather than always having to pretend being all the things that I'm not.
This book, is a rather special book for me, since I decided to write it by accident, but it turned out to be the most special book I would ever write.
I am 22 years old and am a student of English literature at the University of Delhi. I've had a pretty average life, but no one said dreams can ever be bottled up, as far as human imaginations extend, and if that's true dreaming up an universe is not a tough task, and hope, on what the world thrives, dances across my mind during sleepless nights, that one day, some day, humans will find an efficient way to explore the worlds beyond worlds, and that feeling I have has the power, better than any prayer I've whispered as a child. That is better than love, and hatred, and my humanity witnesses my happiness in this, that the knowledge that this world is such a tiny thing to be so obsessed about who dominates it, will spread and humans will rise as humans, at one again, like the one race, we're all supposed to be!
And here I am, Cyril Cliffette, rebel, poet, and dreamer, speaking to you reader, who I believe have a few dreams of your own, and signing off I'd like to say, never give up on them, and fondle them, since they're the first children you've all ever had, and hence respect them, and let them grow up to be strong and have a life of their own.
Have pleasure reading.visualizza meno