At times, your existence is the cross you are condemned to bear. Sure you can scream in agony but no help is there nearby enough to pick you up. So, my friend, scream, cry and curse a little. Then dust yourself up, find a dead rock and pull yourself up. And yes, alone, for it is your cross – it is your duty not to give up on it. Keep limping, keep moving, keep living. Sometimes, an ugly cough is the sign of life – embrace it.
You walked into the kitchen hungry, tired and cold. You can dream of a delicious dish for which you got no resources. Will you go hungry and cantankerous? I would rather make of something out of my half empty – half decent kitchen cabinet tonight. Who knows? May be tomorrow will bring a miracle indeed!
May be tomorrow will bring more misery. But at least with every dark tonight, every cross crushing us with its weight of loneliness – the hope for a dawn’s redemption also lives longer. I will live for that hope at least.
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