Some weeks are rough. This one has certainly been. Something seized me by the throat and Monday night and it hasn't let go. Got to the point where all I could do today was get drunk and lay down waiting for the Angel to come (you know which one). I couldn't see God, with whom I've recently become well acquainted, but I could sure as Hell see His counterpart from the Fiery Furnace.
How come? The darkness is never far away from me. I've lived inside it for a long, long time, and for the most part I have loved the darkness more than I could ever explain. It is more sensual than the light by a long chalk (and if you don't see that you will never understand). My desire to be healed is like the unignorable realisation that you must leave the most beautiful lover you've had because your relationship with her is killing you.