Love How Long Does It Take To Relight a Candle?

It takes as long as it takes, but we must leave the comfort, we must make travel into the the light of day, and leave those angry people in our wake.

Love, How Long Does it Take to Relight a Candle?

I am a traveler, and I believe in love.

     “Do not go gentle into that good night,
      Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
      Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

I am a traveler, and frankly, I, me, Andy, does not care where you live, what you do, how much money you have, however what does make me happy is to see love in the eyes of another person… to see the fire start to rage at the world.

And, I will leave you behind, when you refuse to love, or allow me to love.

Do you listen to your friends?

Do you hear passion, love in their voice?

Do you know, is the candle still lit?

Love is not sex, love is passion, it is an obsession about something, anything, and again, I truly do not give a crap what your in love with but we must believe in love, or there is just no hope, there is no spark in the eyes, the voice is dull, the shoulders droop. Without the love of life, there is no hope, with love people walk around, and cannot share happiness with others. There are no jokes, there is only submission, there is no energy, and indifference is the ruler.

Hate is passion, take care what you hate, this is your love of life… passion can consume, and eat you, and while you are angry at the world, the love you wanted leaves.

Travel writers for the most part are romance writers often convincing people to live in fantasy, this is a form of love, and many travel writers sell anticipation, and dreams, and the hope. The wise ones know, that few, if none of their readers have enough money to become the rich and famous, they write romance, about an unrealistic lifestyle, travel this is not possible, as for me, I like possible love, it is not possible, then is it is a fools run. But a good story is a good story, and should be appreciated as what the person needed, they needed a temporary respite from their dull and hopeless life.

But love that you can put you hands on, that is this story.

Love of a friend.
Love of a project, your mission in life.
Love of life.
Love of a new idea.
Love of your new body, after you exercise.
Love of your dog, cat.
Love of children.
Love of the project.
Love of writing something down that changed a persons life...
Love of the people that work with you…
Love of a person that follows you around because you are rich.
Love of people wanting your money, we hope you have deep pockets.
Love of giving, because that is all you can do.

The love when you take the dog off the leash, and letting the old dog go...

Love of my mother, love of my father.

Love of letting go of a person, to let them find their passion. True love never leaves, it always lives inside a person.

Love is what fills up a person, and make them spit shine; it is the frosting on the cake. Look for the sparkle in their eyes, and voice, and when all hope is gone, run, run, run fast away, save yourself.

Love is something that never leaves, and here in lies the problem, when love leaves, it can take years before we believe in love again.

How long does it take to light a candle?

Maybe the saddest part of me wandering around the planet is seeing people with no shine, but the greatest part of travel is when a person suddenly reawakens, the battery suddenly is charged, and I am hearing non-stop energy spurting from a persons mouth, they are no longer just content, putting in their time, they are in love with something.
Please, love without passion is not love.

Find your passion, find your love of life, go down swinging, and never give up.

Fight the good fight.
-- That is my two cents. Andy Lee Graham


Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Dylan Thomas

-- Thanks Mom and Dad, their is faith, I believe in love.


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