some days..

are lonelier than others.

alas.

---

the fact of the matter is that I feel that pain, yet react either with foolish indulgence or with cowardly distraction.

a sin: to dwell in suffering via melodramatic poetics. to roll the pain around inside the heart, examining it from all angles; building up the sense of injustice or magnifying the frustration beyond its original form. the fault: idolatry, pride; the elevation of the despair's seeming solution to the status of saviour. a woman is not the solution to my heart's cry nor will she be my redeemer.
another sin: to walk away from suffering and hardship by laughter and calculated revelry. [to lay down the movement of infinity for the incomplete joy of a moment] parties, jokes and laughter are important and good; in their healthy form, they give perspective, not innoculation.
a more subtle sin: to feel pain, recognize that it's solution is beyond my hands, and then [the critical moment is here] set the matter aside (perhaps even "unto God") under the reasoning that it's outside my control.

fact: 'it is not good for man to be alone.'
consequence: frustration; tension; pain.

to rely on God in pain is a confrontation, a shooting war.

giving unconfronted pain to God is a lie.

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I have seen many things. I have seen marriage in springtime and divorce amidst flowers. I have seen lovers' joy found in unknown war. I have seen love, the appearance of love, and the mockery of love - revealed in a couple within three moments. I have seen love come and give life anew; I have watched it die and poison all those near. I have seen the illusions of youthful words and the venom of aged hate. I have seen an evil man uncaring for any woman adored by many. I have seen a kind woman cry softly in the night, wishing for comfort and never finding it. I have seen the contempt of love rewarded with affection and the pursuit of love greeted with blood.

and I have seen it fade away as mist under the sun. as something that has substance only in darkness before the dawn.

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what a piece of unjust shit.

seen through the eyes of an undeserving man - idolatrous and murderous - the whole matter is a spectacle. and that through a mere human's eyes.

how God's heart must break.

may my heart be broken alongside Christ's.

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some days are lonelier than others. may we not run away from those days, lest our act of "trusting God" be mere emotional masturbation.