Skip to main content
The sense of death stalking you in utter silence is the most unnerving of all fears. When you realize that your fears are indeed true, the starkness of life hits you right in your soul. The meaning of a measly life. The meaning of a miserable death. Why does it have to be like this.

No. This is not a protest. You don't protest with the dark and silent reaper.
Labels:

Comments

Anonymous said…
If death is stalking me, then I welcome it.

To be absent from the body, is to be present with the Lord Jesus. I'd rather be with Him than on this cursed world.

*sigh* But my love and need for my family is strong and He knows this.
So, here I remain.

Sorry I've been away for so long, Loner. I'm going to update my blog. I read all of the messages you left me. Thank you for your concern. :-)

How are you doing? From your last post, it seems as though we're in the same boat. :-( I do hope things get better with you.
7:35 PM
Pradeep VM said…
Hey rain. You have no idea how much we all missed you. It is wonderful having you back oldgrl.

I agree with you on the cursed world part. But that please blog. Your blog is one of the blessings of life. Yeah, I mean it.
3:05 PM
Anonymous said…
Thanks, Loner. *blushing* I'm sorry that I worried you.

How are you doing? Are you having a hard time around the Christmas season? Out of all of my fellow-bloggers, you are the only one that I really open up to. I just wish there was something I can do to help you. If there is anything I can do, please ask. I'll try.

I'm glad that I can make somebody happy. I'm nothing special. I try to do the right thing (most of the time). However, people just don't understand me. Even my own family thinks that I'm weird. I guess I am. That's OK, I still love them.

Be careful out there.
3:35 PM
Pradeep VM said…
That is the odd part of life isn't it, rain. You do the right thing, and get blamed for that. As for being weird. You are telling me.

You be careful too, rain. Ok. There are people (out in the bogworld anyway)who care about you.
11:17 AM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Weird Loner !

Pondering on the reason for one's existence is hardly the sort of thing one ought to be doing these days. But, there being nothing really worthwhile about life, about being alive, or even about feeling alive, this is just the kind of futile occupation that appeals to loner's of my sort. So here I am, by my favourite watering hole, listening to the silence of eons. Maybe I am weird, like some nice people have kindly pointed out. What they have not been able to point out though, is the reason for my weirdness or anybody elses weirdness. I guess, sitting by all by oneself, by the side of a sullen lake is weird. Fine. So I am a weird loner. Thank you very much. That is what loners are ! Anyway, I haven't posted anything at all for a long time. Even my best friends seem to have given up on me. It is tough being a loner. It is tougher being a weird loner.
6 comments
Read more
First I learned there are other loners out there. Then I learned there are people out there who care. People who actually seem to be concerned about you. And all the time I had assumed a sort of worthlessness which now seems to be, well, rather disproportionate. Sure, I knew there are nice people in this world. I never knew there were great people. Ok, I am not talking about GREAT people, you know. I am talking about the ordinary people with the spark of greatness in them. What can be greater than caring about a fellow human being whom you don't even know.
8 comments
Read more
He was back in that old place, where memories were on riot. Nostalgia doesn't half describe what he felt. It was not the moon. Not the flowers. The shock of deja vu was in the ordinary things, in the vegetables and the sodden grass. The drizzle just added to the score. He realized what many before him had already known. That love is not about joy, or happiness. It is about anguish, about a glimpse of the unreachable. A vision of what the human brain can achieve, and what no neural circuit has yet managed to duplicate. Sitting on the moist rocks of the cliff, he realized he woud gladly go through the same pain, and grief. For love is a gift of god, even for athiests. A message form a power greater than humanity. And he said to himself. I miss you. I miss you like the air I breathe. The ripple of the waves of the lake, like soft laughter, fills me with a silent loneliness nothing can ever wash away. Where are you now? What are you doing?
5 comments
Read more