It's been a long cold winter. Too long. Too dark. And things have fallen apart, got broken, lost. Words are not enough anymore. There are no words anymore.
The dark side is not a stranger, it is now the escaped shadow running fugitive through pathways in the head. This is war. And to win the many battles requires a long-term strategy. Which requires clarity of thought. Which is now an impossibility.
But as someone said, a probable impossibility is preferable to an improbable possibility. Hope. No matter how dark it all seems. For hope to escape the box, every other pestilence needs to have their run.
I don't know.
