Isn't it a wonderful thing to know those troublesome vignettes can just be our Story? Let us sing a while about Pain and Inevitability and The Cards We All Are Dealt.
We live in a world defined by Death; our perpetual pining to Exist is Defiance, the desire to reclaim, to define ourselves despite adversity. So we make Pain into a tool; we make Inevitability our rival; we Love, an act of Defiance; we Sing, an act of Reclamation.
Don't you see? It gets even better.
We seize, we conquer, we take every position until Death is a frail and feeble foe. We press our advantage and make ourselves into Paragons Of Feeling. We Create and we Indulge and we share our Passion.
And then something goes wrong: It all comes toppling down, all that work we put in for nothing. How Inevitable is Nothing?
More Inevitable than peace and joy and love and reclamation and celebration and shameless revelry.
More Inevitable than any Story we could possibly tell.
We All Are Dust.
But we do it anyways.
And we do it in a heartbeat.
We Embrace the Void, and we Sing To Her.
And She Listens.
And We All Cry And Cry Until We Die
begging for one more night
So many stories are defined by the Pining.
Isn't it all such a beautiful tapestry?
Don't you see why our Pain is our Closest Friend?
Don't you see how Death defines Being?
Do you feel it, too? The thrumming pulse of Living —
Doesn't it all start to come into sharper focus, now?
You deserve all those things She is going to Take from you one day. Even if you can't Hear Our Song, that's okay; this is an Empty Space, after all.
You deserve to love and be loved. You deserve to have peace and an Empty Space of your own. Even if you never find these things, you'll still have a Story To Tell.
I'm so excited. I can't wait to see where you go from here.
