H,
It has been a long
time since I felt this far away from home. I do not know how I became so
comfortable with being lost. It used to be that I could not go a day without
it. Now I am in the most depraved cynicism that all the old bonds and
foundations have begun to mean nothing.
There is no sense of home in my heart
anymore.
Yet, I am still
very hungry. It is a cold wilderness and having no purpose means just surviving
the elements. There is no poetry, no beauty, no ideal and certainly no peace. There
is only machination and savagery and trying to get by on with the wits of
personal schemes and party tricks. It is all smoke and mirrors and not thinking
of anything because that is the real enemy.
Thinking, dreaming, living up to
something is death. All I want is all I want so I want nothing at all.
But, home is still
a present part of my nightmares. The bad is only the mutated good and the dark
is only the absence of light. In the poverty of my soul I can hear the riches
of Elyon calling sweetly. The wilderness is only the sunken place away from
home and every direction I walk in I am closer to the loving yearn we all come
from.
Amen.
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