And why do the winds change?
Are their desires so fleeting?
Are their motivations so fickle?
They wander to and fro, never to be satisfied.
Yet they have more resolve than the heart
It is ever-searching, ever-changing
Unsure of its own two feet, it knows not what it wants
It waves back and forth, sure to give way and topple
It is insecure and must be locked up
Hidden from all to protect all from its destructive ways
If set loose, it tears apart all it touches
Leaving nothing but dust in its wake
So it must remain under both lock and key
Shut in a cell never to be opened
Lest it be the ruin of us all
...
It is true - "The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?" So I entrust mine to the One, the Only One, who can handle its tumultuous behavior. I thank God for His grace - He restrains the bent nature within me and loans to me His perfect one. I must resolve to make good use of it, lest I prove myself an untrustworthy steward.
...
Lately, I've had this strange urge to exclaim something in a foreign language whenever I get excited or surprised. I feel like saying something that means, "Oh, wow!" in cooler terms. I must discover this phrase; otherwise, I will be doomed to a life without precision. That, or I'll be just a little less happy whenever something makes me excited.
...
What is greater, an idea or the words that convey it?
In my opinion, the idea holds superiority. Words are but a medium through which an idea takes form. It is the idea itself that is inspired and inspires. It is true that without proper words, an idea can fail. I concede that. But without an idea the words carry no meaning. They become refuse, chaff, a dull horn that drones in the early morning. But a concept needs only a spark to ignite. If one can but grasp the tiniest bit of an idea, he can be won to its cause. Martin Luther King, Jr. was a great orator, but it was the power of his dream that fueled his words.
It is the greatest of ideas that elude our lips as we search for words. Their abstract nature taunts us until we put it to rest with sound of our voice. I'm sure you've felt it: You are on the brink of a revelation, an epiphany. You are inches from grasping that which you wish to convey, but it may as well be light years. But try hard enough, long enough, and the idea takes form on your lips, and it is beautiful. In that moment where the abstract meets the concrete, you know that something truly amazing has happened.
So, while an idea relies on words to be expressed, it is the idea that holds the true power. It is only a matter of time before it manifests itself.
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