Light

Trying to write in the darkness of my mind when all there is is fear, anger, and disgust. Disgust at myself disguised as anger at others, an anger which molders into fear. Fearing the world, I hide away in my inner shadows where the mold can only grow.

But I bring my pen; I scribble over the walls of my cell.

Nonsense. Only nonsense.

Keep writing.

This is stupid.

Keep writing.

And I keep writing because I must, because I was born grasping that pen. I’m searching for the words of God which face the darkness:

יְהִי אוֹר וַיְהִי אוֹר