spirit with courage

(brace yourself.)
It seems somewhat ironically sad to me that humanity has become so acquainted with sorrow. The operation of naivete is to simply accept present circumstances as normal but I have never been one to value naivete. The world is not what it should be and that bitter truth resounds in all its inhabitants. I read a quote from Washington that said something about how youth deals with sorrow very harshly because it catches them unaware. And yet...how sad these words are. At a very early age the concept of what should be isnt always how things are hurt me so deeply that it took years to reconcile myself to it. Mankind does not belong in the dark. We are creatures of light and love. Man is an expression of love that cannot be quite captured in any other thing. Are entire existence is a gift. We are are given the breath of life to..live. We taste in variety, see in iridescence, and love with passion. What is the point. Variety and choice is a masterwork created for us to enjoy. It is so hurtful to see paradise glittering in the souls of everyone I pass by on the street only to know that selfish desire is killing it all away. The contrast of death and abnormality to a righteous eternity is a hard pill to take. Because though we are those children of light, the entire world exists in a state of darkness. Confusion and misguidance are a type of evil that I cannot begin to express my hatred for. Yet, I see it everywhere. The media has taken beauty from us. The real quality hasnt been shown in its full virtue because though they may try, pixels will never convey the perfect brush stroke of man. Perverted and changed, beauty has been ravaged by arrogance and sexual desire. Why do i seek solace in my piano or in the mountains? Just for a chance to whisper to her, never quite sure of her presence, like the space between Adam's finger and God's.



I once read something that said no other word will carry the same significance, the same sound as the word mom. I remember reading that and feeling the satisfaction of agreeing with someone so completely. However, another word has brought justice to this rather eloquent description. The word "father" is something of power and emotion for me. For I have never known an earthly father, merely substitutes and knock offs. Yet, my God is with me. He is my only Father and in his guidance I seek both purity and truth. In ways I cannot explain, except only to say, in a rather cliche way, that my faith has been strengthened. As a said before, I do not appreciate the innocence of youth. Ignorance is not bliss; bliss is bliss. Which is the second facet of this freewrite. What has become of happiness. There are so many who should have happiness but they are robbed of it by the same arrogance, sexual desire, violence, hatred and all the other names we give to selfishness. The concept of sorrow, of legitimate sorrow, was something that caught me unaware. Its prescence in my life challenged my beliefs in everything. And not to be some hallmark sob story but even before these last couple years, Id seen some pretty bad stuff. Just take my word for it. However, nothing was in such potency or inescapable agony as these last two years. How could those created in love by "the happy God" cause such caustic sorrow? It just shouldnt be! My mind told me that those in the middle east or africa or anywhere else but here knew the meaning of suffering but never did i think i would get my own specially prepared syringe full of personal hell. What can i say, I was naive. Now with far older eyes I see the world differently. Where as before i was oblivious to the marks, now my eyes gravitate to the old wounds and scars on everyone around me. The feeling it gives me to recognize the hurt my own family has experienced... Like a father, or a brother, I feel the pain on people. At times it is overwhelming to glimpse the battlefield because I know that there is nothing I can do. No earthly cure can wipe the tears from the eyes of a people grown accustomed to their cool embrace. I cannot help them. It would be arrogant and foolish to try. So with some measure of effort i try to convince myself that the lump in my throat somehow validates my ability to draw breath. Yet, I know it does not. However, the gift I have been given is not mine to throw away. My life is a testament and... a "witness." I do not belong to this world. In fact, I am no part of it. I belong to an everlasting hope; a hope of happiness. For i have come to understand that perhaps for 70 or 80 years with special mightiness that I may not come to know happiness. These last few months has shown me that i may yet find a small amount of contentment, however. Because though things will never be as good as they should be or contentment and joy powerful enough to transcend to a cherished happiness, I am no longer lost in a fathomless sorrow. Again, the bitter irony of such a sad statement is something hard to acknowledge.



And then everything centers on love; the perfecting quality of God. There was a time that i lost sight of the real meaning of love. An honorable man is one who has come to know love's principles and has found joy in living by its guidance. How i want to be an honorable man. I use to think that holding on to my sorrow as a haunted vigil and testament somehow offered the proof that my love was real. Well, thus prompting this freewrite, the truth i so dearly love has shared another insight with me. Holding on to sorrow is not an exercise in empowering love, but merely a selfish need to yield. I cannot yield. An honorable man has no place for ashes in his life. The time I have been given is indeed a gift and just as it is not mine to end, it is not mine to waste away. Unlike the world, I do not place worth on rarity or social convention. Though my life is rested in immortal visions, I must do all that i can to live every moment with all joy. Even though happiness is beyond me, contentment certainly is not. The field of the rising sun is littled with dead and dying. My duty is towards those who like me, may yet choose to live.