honor her faithfulness, even when there is a reason for ..

In life, we need an anchor. We cannot be floaters. I live in a world of my own, with good enough space for strength and imagination, with wisdom, peace and much self-comfort, as though today is the last of everyday, where loneliness becomes prolonged and overbearing, longsuffering love much forgotten and inadequateness of the self is much more prominent today. O, what am I doing now, fixing a computer in the middle of the night because I cannot get to sleep. Insomnia sounds chronic, so we can forget about using it. Adoring the delicateness of the mini parts in the CPU. I mean, I must admit I am quite a talent at anal things. I cannot help but be amazed, and marvel at the tasks my hands can do. Hands are a wonderful creation from God, this I am so sure. Then there is the mind that is very much alive in her thoughts. The thoughts that flow are trains that lose their way and get bundled into heaps like the twisting of railway tracks as an eventuality. She doesn’t want to rest, thoughts raged the moment the eyes attempt to close..because there are more than a million things, slipping through those moments of contemplation like grasped sand falling through the palm of a hand. As the clock ticks on religiously, she breathes the palpable air of the dense night; the four walls of the once bloated room encase her at an increasing speed. She thought and felt that the longer she stays awake, the later the next day will arrive, it seems. She fears the coming of tomorrow for she has permitted herself to worry about it carelessly. She could not release that fear and let it flee. When life’s rituals are broken, fears sink in. and without self-control, you will end up a pitiful whiny girl who keeps banging her head against walls, devoured by hot tears. ‘I don’t know’ is a lazy answer to questions; it reflects nothing but sheer ignorance. Yet so often. ‘I don’t know’ is used, abused, and misused. She is guilty of it, because she loves to hide from reality, she hates being questioned, instead of continually pondering, she brushes reality off to live a life of mediocrity. She delights in being alone in her own world, away from the real and tangible, the harsh and raucous sounds of the living. She wishes memories to fade faster since they are fruitless, leeching on the human energy and the countless emotions of the heart. She is tired in this warring of the soul and the world. There must be something more than this. Vagaries of the mind can cause the conflagration of the soul. Purpose to life is like skeleton to body, Zacharias says. Perhaps at the end, I only need my soul..i cannot figure out why the heart is quite hurt by david’s words, but the truth is, words always hurt. And the deeper truth is, everyone is self-important. She hopes she can be less emotional. Blessed are the pure at heart, for they shall see God. Images fleet through her mind again, maybe she is hallucinating. She conjures too many fantasies in her time. And so she continues to shut herself , reducing her words slowly, till silence enfolds. The eyes indefatigably half-closed. And the heart beats on, with the last ounce of supernatural energy in her. She cries out loud, sharp and piercing.. She grips on to the garment of the last breath, till shivers and chills of the cold weather outside swathe her completely.