These are my words. Never say, “never”. If you say you “may never find”, then truly you may. But if you truly have hope, then hope, have, and speak of it as expectation. For why would we think we may receive better than that which we expect? If we hope for the best, and yet expect the worst, we shall never be disappointed. What then? Shall we hope for the best? Shall we expect the worst and never again be let down? Nay! I say, expect the best, accept no less!

For that which we expect, that shall we receive. But why hope if our hope means naught to us? Why hope if we dream for less than our hopes? What shall our day bring, if we expect it to be despair?

These are my words. Our words are our worlds. And with our words we create our destiny. Shall my words of the despair make my life better? Nay! They reach out into my future and create that which I spake into being. For as I speak, so my words are. They do not return to me void, but accomplish their work and fulfill their purpose.

What then? As I speak despair, so despair is made. But, shall I speak in frustration? Shall I speak in anger? Shall I release the built up stresses and emotions within me, the anger, fear, frustration, disappointment, intense madness and rage to tell the world of my growing stress, “Shit!”? Nay! Again, I say, nay. I shall speak of my desire.

And, of my desire, I shall speak as though I have. Not in fantasy, but in truth. The truth of the power of my words. The truth of my destiny.

These are my words: I am a wealthy man. I have all I need and more. I am a successful man. There is no lack in me.

These are my words, for my journey is governed by my words. And, therefore, my words are my journey . . . and my destiny does not disappoint. I speak that which is not, as though it were. Be it jubilee, or despair. For these are my words, and my words go out, no empty, but filled with the power to create. Nor shall they return to me empty, either. Nay, they shall return filled with the completion of their mission. They shall become all they were sent out to be, and build that which they were to build.

For if God made time with His spoken word, and then made Man in His own image, what does that say of our spoken word? What of the words I spake yesterday? What shall I do to change them? Naught, shall I do. For that which was sent, is sent. That which is held, is held. That which is crafted, is crafted.

So my word, be it crafted or careless, goes out with my authority to make my future what I wish it. And, if I care not for it as it is now, shall I not craft my words? If, then, I have only frustration, and not the words of life to speak, then naught shall I say; for my future stores up my words for me when it becomes my present. I do not remember them, but time does. Time shall remember them and show me their true power, whether I know it or not.

These are my words. I spake them. They became, and I spake them again. Again, they became, and, again, I speak. A cycle. But if care not for what they become, shall they again be released? Nay! Nay, they shall not. Now, I speak something new. And the new becomes. I speak it again, and, again, new becomes. I speak again and a new cycle is begun.

These are my words.