God pwns

It is a trial to miss a loved one’s companionship over a long period of time. However, it is an even greater trial to be without that longing, sehnsucht, for an indefinite amount of time. Whichever trial we have been marked out for, we must be careful to distinguish between endurance and acceptance. For one is a giving in and one is a giving up. The key to any trial is to pervert it on its own grounds. To befriend the darkness. It’s a great shock when a stranger’s face breaks into an old friend’s smile. The rug is pulled out from beneath our feet, and we transcend. Here, what still remains are those voids that appear in our lives. Yet with them, we can see something beyond. They speak for themselves. Like any real artist, the artwork is in itself a life. A will, an intelligence, a personality. The artist is nothing more than the chosen bride of the art work. These words, not possesed or brought up from the murky depths by some great force. Rather it is the opposite. It would take a great force to deny their gift to these dumbfound fingers. For even fingers pine to be wed; and we wait, checking every stranger’s doorstep for that sound we knew long ago…