Be a Brave One, Beautiful
Don’t be afraid to be the gold-dusted unicorn in a world of donkeys, the nerd in the catty clique of mean girls, the flaming freethinker who puts the belle in rebel. Be the self-sufficient outcast, the sun-tanned warrior, the feral tiger who won’t submit to tricks for treats. We aren’t the government’s neutered guppies. We are God’s glittering sharks, and we are slicing our path through the salty waters on our way to freedom.
Be more than your material items. Be more than your accomplishments and accolades. Rise above your earthly identity. Reach into the cathedral of your heart and pull out that eternal truth: your soul comes straight from the breath of God and we’ve been suffocating for eons.
It is time to breathe deep and get down to business. It is time to escape the cocktail party, wipe off the masquerade from our noble faces, and look ourselves in the eyes again, to be pierced by our own raw gaze. It’s time to get back to our kindred, to toss aside mankind’s poisons for God’s medicines.
Acknowledge your power to choose the better route. Choose lyrics instead of chants, calmness over chaos, and always think for yourselves. Get up from your groove in the societal machine and meet the truth again. Glaze your gears in the oil of curiosity and put on the spectacles of a brand-new perspective.
It never hurts to change your view of the sunrise and see a new shade of rebirth.
Sometimes unplugging from the world and diving into the depths of your mind can be the most brilliant thing you do. Bookworms are better than bombshells. Crusades for love are better than charades for fame. Build up your soul one brokenhearted brick at a time, fortified in the balmy mortar of bravery. Construct a hammock in the forest of stars and swing between Venus and Mars. Step outside the expanse of terra firma and linear time and tip your hat to eternity.
This world is not our home and its dramas are fading dreams.
We are the knights of our own humble order, fighting a beautifully unfair battle. It’s one night of nightmares against an infinity of stars. It’s ancient truth against manmade propaganda. You don’t have to fight for the truth, all you have to do is say it–just speak it and let the syllables roll off your tongue–and it will come roaring to the frontline to fight with weapons of fact and strategies of logic, and all you’ll have to do is sit back and watch the lies burn.
So wake up and go against the grain. Let’s find out how delicious life is outside of the box. Let’s go on an adventure away from the panicked crowd and pick daisies in the fields before they’re soaked in blood. Let’s pick lavender and lilacs in a world of lunatics and craft purple bouquets of forgiveness out of festering scars–let’s pluck blossoms of floral love out of the smithereens of urban hate, take back our stolen freedom and change our fate.
Show the world why real talk is better than small talk, why individual research is better than institutionalized information; show them why personal belief is better than blind patriotism and loving honesty superior to political correctness. Shout with all the loudspeaker in you and all the independence our burnt flag has left every ounce of truth your heart can house.
Show us how beautiful the raw human soul is when it hasn’t been tenderized and tampered with by the robotic talons of our dystopian time.
Roar like the last lion on Earth for the sake of life’s freedoms.
Present the power of the soul to a world that thinks morality and ethics, humility and honor are vestigial traits and the soul a hippie’s concept.
And don’t be afraid to buck the black and white standards and go for glorious grey.
While the world is screaming for the blue team and the red team and it’s always democrat versus republican, liberal versus conservative, toss all division in the trash and instead, choose divine truth: it’s good against evil, no matter what. Grab the color spectrum and go for the priceless gold of a personal outlook. The truth is dynamic and multidimensional, and it’s never found in one extreme. Think for yourself. Be your own brainiac.
This world is starving for a cool slice of classic simplicity, dying for a sip of pure morality, suffering from a deprivation of 100% wild and free human souls. We’re thirsting for an ice-cold ounce of freedom. We’re hiring for the cream of the crop but all the harvest has to offer is lukewarm copycats. We’ve sent too many souls through the slaughterhouse of this system and created too many voiceless clones to lose another ounce of uniqueness again.
Get out of the gridlocked dungeon of groupthink and escape to freedom, even if it means being labeled, even if it means being shunned–shed the serpentine skin of corporate, government, and institutional influence and resuscitate your appetite for God-given truth.
Spark a hunger for unaltered reality. Invent a novel form of contemplation, a brand-new method of cognition, a way of thinking where you learn before you panic, where you pray before you speak, and where you consider the feelings of the other person before you type out that nasty reply. We are all flesh and blood behind the screen. Even the monsters who douse America in fear through their falsities on the news are real people who will regret their decisions at Judgement Day.
Pray for the deceived and spiritually dead; pray for the people who scream their opinions in fear. No matter what, be that being you were before you were told to be anything other than true.
Be the crackling fire that ignites the world’s wonder. Be the kiss of kindness that quenches its thirst for something fresh, something sweet–be the something that will sweep it off its feet. Spin like a ballerina, swing like an acrobat, speak like the spawn of Braveheart himself. You have nothing but love on your side and a fellow army of wartorn ruffians to accompany you into the smoky darkness of revolution.
Don’t forget what kind of family you belong to: our genealogy goes back to the King of Kings. God will march with us from earthly chaos to heavenly kingdom and He’s not letting go of His adopted children. There is holy blood that soaks our adoption papers and Jesus is still waiting for His siblings to come home.
Your crown is made for you and of you. We aren’t earthly royalty and we won’t be defined by sapphires and rubies, diamonds and emeralds. Paper money means nothing to the Prince of Peace and heirs and heiresses without a heart breaks His heart. Fortune runs like the Nile through Egypt in this family, and it’s not a fortune you can touch. Our crown will be decorated in the gems of our actions, furnished by the love and hate we gave during our human lives.
Let your legacy be a life of love. Keep your kindness in abundant stock and let the candle of love burn into the deepest hours of this darkened night. When God pours His cup of fire over the world and cleanses it, closes these aching curtains and rolls the credits, what will you be credited with?
When the descendants of the future look back on the history books, be the kind of person whose bravery strikes them with awe, of whom the stories of tomorrow will say, “In a time of hate, she loved. In a time of panic, she reasoned. In a time of darkness, she kept lighting her candle; and though it was small, it could be seen across the hills from miles away.”
Be the little light on the hilltop, the firefly in God’s palm, beating with a beautiful rebellion, shining with all the love you have. And if there are no cities of the future, if this is it?
Then all we’ve gotta do is survive the headlines and we’ll be going Home.