yes, megan, everything will be okay. the sun will still rise. the tides will still flowe. the birds will still sing their morning song. the fish will still swim. the trees will still stretch their limbs to the sky. the universe will still expand. humans however… well, that’s a different story altogether.
keep the faith. we have our love for eachother to sustain us, i hope you can feel mine across the miles.
A few things are going on that make it seem, on the surface, as though it is not going to be ok, such as environmental deterioration, capitalism, peak oil, but I take hope from these apparently end times. If this stuff wasn’t going on I would have nothing other than the status quo forever, like Orwell’s boot, but now we know a change is inevitable. So hang on, we may end up miles from here, and I am looking forward to both the trip and having you along, as well as where we will end up.
Rufus Wainwright is singing to me (recorded) telling me of his childhood crush on his teacher. I smile to hear it. It’s as true and real as any crushing horror you have attached to. Victory, justice, fulfillment, joy, and even bliss are all real, past, present, and future. I hope you have reattached to their certainty by the time you are reading this. And I hope you recognize your own strength and (ironic) hopefulness for reaching out to us, your community of blog readers (and friends!).
It will be ok. Really. We are far more resourceful than we give ourselves credit for being. Even in the darkest hole we can see light. Things will change. They will get better.
Tho the Leviathon’s weight may be vast, our lives are not “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.” And until we sleigh it, I will help you bear what of that weight I can, as you have me, and as I know the many friends, relations and comrades who have written will too.
Oh God! Rereading this list of comments, your more recent, hopeful posts now. If only we were always – if only we had always – been this good and vocal with one another.
yes, megan, everything will be okay. the sun will still rise. the tides will still flowe. the birds will still sing their morning song. the fish will still swim. the trees will still stretch their limbs to the sky. the universe will still expand. humans however… well, that’s a different story altogether.
keep the faith. we have our love for eachother to sustain us, i hope you can feel mine across the miles.
many blessings,
david
It will all be okay, really it will…. I promise, it might be hard getting there but the happy times will return.
A few things are going on that make it seem, on the surface, as though it is not going to be ok, such as environmental deterioration, capitalism, peak oil, but I take hope from these apparently end times. If this stuff wasn’t going on I would have nothing other than the status quo forever, like Orwell’s boot, but now we know a change is inevitable. So hang on, we may end up miles from here, and I am looking forward to both the trip and having you along, as well as where we will end up.
Rufus Wainwright is singing to me (recorded) telling me of his childhood crush on his teacher. I smile to hear it. It’s as true and real as any crushing horror you have attached to. Victory, justice, fulfillment, joy, and even bliss are all real, past, present, and future. I hope you have reattached to their certainty by the time you are reading this. And I hope you recognize your own strength and (ironic) hopefulness for reaching out to us, your community of blog readers (and friends!).
It will be ok. Really. We are far more resourceful than we give ourselves credit for being. Even in the darkest hole we can see light. Things will change. They will get better.
Know that I am thinking of you.
Tho the Leviathon’s weight may be vast, our lives are not “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.” And until we sleigh it, I will help you bear what of that weight I can, as you have me, and as I know the many friends, relations and comrades who have written will too.
Oh God! Rereading this list of comments, your more recent, hopeful posts now. If only we were always – if only we had always – been this good and vocal with one another.
e
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