Vinka's Library of Mind

The storm has raged for many days, battering us with its relentless winds and waves. But now, let us pause—take a moment to rest and thank God for seeing us through. We’re still here, still standing strong, still holding on. The storm could not tear us apart, and for that, I am deeply grateful. I thank God for everything—for the chance to walk this ferocious road together, hand in hand. Our ship still sails, though battered, refusing to sink.     Compromise—this is what we’ve learned and continue to learn. It’s not easy, but we try, recognizing that we are only human, prone to mistakes and imperfections. We’ve seen each other’s flaws, yet we choose to stay, to keep learning and growing together.   It’s through compromise, honest communication, and keeping a cool head that we’ve found ways to rethink our own inclinations. We’ve carried scars, both old and new, but we’re committed to healing them. Healing is not a destination but a journey, and as we walk this path, we...

Here I am again, face to face with the same familiar enemy—my insecurities. They’ve been with me for so long, a shadow I’ve been trying to fight off for what feels like forever. Yet, despite their relentless whispers, I’ve kept going. So, let’s take a moment to celebrate, not for the battles I’ve lost, but for the quiet victories I’ve earned. My faith has grown, even in the face of failure. Too many times I’ve stumbled, fallen, and felt the weight of giving up pressing down on me. But here I stand, unbroken. I haven’t quit, and maybe, just maybe, that’s enough for today. Love and career—both seem dim, their paths not quite as bright as I’d hoped. Life keeps pushing me, forcing me to work hard again and again, as if testing my limits. But maybe that’s the reason I’ve grown strong enough to walk through the fiercest hurricanes. Each storm has shaped me, every gust of wind teaching me resilience. And though the skies may still be dark, I keep walking, knowing that strength isn’t just abou...

Oh, to tiny bug, the world seems so hard to live, Where winds are tempests, and raindrops unforgiving. And life, too, hands you its coldest sting— A footstep looms, and you’re brushed away. The path you build is crumbled, erased, Your fragile dreams left cruelly displaced. You’re turned from the flower, swept off the ground, A journey of seeking, where refuge’s not found. Yet on you crawl, with legs so frail, Through grassy jungles and dusty trails. You bear rejection, relentless and stark. Oh, little bug, your struggle seems grand, To carry your world in a grain of sand. -vic