This is the age of desire, when men can freely look upon the greatness of others.
The solemnity of simplicity is lost in the West.
What contentedness remains thrives during Christmas, when men happily trash their greatest desires to embrace the finer parts of life.
To see the holy lights with sober eyes makes water swell in my heart, to pour out onto the paper which I labor over in the night.
I see a sober Christmas. I need a sober Christmas. My heart is tainted and I need more love.
Words go unfinished in my mind as I race for understanding. Why was I cursed with a mind that only shines in darkness?
What has happened to mankind? We put down each other to raise up ourselves. Evil thrives in us to create evil in the world. What good remains is now more valued.
Why do I cry when I should be celebrating? I need affection. I am sick of loneliness, of being high in the night all alone with no one to talk to but myself in my madness.
When I see the bright lights of Christmas with sober eyes, I will not be able to restrain my tears, as I cannot now nor will I ever.