You wouldn’t believe how tempting it was to write something in the vacancy that colour left behind. But at the end of the day, some things are better left unsaid, and I trust everything that means anything is enough. At least for now.

volume 15.
You wouldn’t believe how tempting it was to write something in the vacancy that colour left behind. But at the end of the day, some things are better left unsaid, and I trust everything that means anything is enough. At least for now.

I need some feedback on this. After about a month of deliberating I actually got down to doing something about the website. Do take a look. Questions:
1) Is the [snap!] thing irritating?
2) Are the photos okay? i.e. big enough? too small?
3) Don’t say anything about wanting more pictures because I haven’t gotten round to that yet… ;P

In a world full of hopelessness, there is sometimes hopefulness. In a world of cynicism, there is sometimes optimism. There’s light at the end of the tunnel, so they say. But so often in the midst of the darkness, of that insanity that surrounds us, of ‘where is the love’, there is no hope. What man locks his daughter in a dungeon. What man, does that for 24 years. What man bears 7 children from his own daughter. What kind of insanity and absolute hatred exists within the heart of just one man? What sort of world is this. What sort of sin is there that dwells here, possibly in each and every heart. That our hatred can only turn into actions that one would wish none could dream? And yet, there is. There is so much. So much hatred, blood, death, sin, disease.
And yet, amidst the storm, amidst the chaos and turmoil that dwells at the centre of this rotting world, there is always Good News. There always will be a Light. A friend today had a brother returned to her, after months of painful desire. After months of a wait, of a wait that may never end. What kind of life is this? When tragedy sits upon a seat so close to yourself, you can only but wonder. You can only but think and dream those dreams you never wished, and those desires of your heart become so strangely tinged with guilt. What is the larger picture, what is your life? What is it that turns round and takes you by the throat and so nearly rids your soul of your body.
Today I read of a tragedy, turning to hope. Today I rejoiced. That is one victory. And as she goes to hospital, she whispers:
‘I cannot wait to hear him say jie once more.’
It brings tears.
Of joy.
There’s always Light.
-Break my heart, for what breaks Yours.
You and I said
theroo, happyjz
theroo, jb, theroo, bao, jo
theroo, happyjz, theroo, happyjz, theroo, jo
theroo, , , theroo, giraffe
jo
theroo, Ber, Ber