I am fighting off terrible pain today, as well as nausea and other consequences of that pain. Here’s a post from the archives– something I wrote when I was still blogging at VOX.
Read this as an epic tale, or a real life account, as you will.
Once, I was an Idealist, but not in the Platonic sense. I still believe in the spirit element of all things material, but I was as Troile’s children, who fought for the ideals of an ancient kingdom, or even a world, like Caprica. I was wont to despair if others did not share my ideals. I was prone to pontificate, or at least to preach those ideals boldly.
But I was to know pain. Seeds of destruction planted in my youth began to grow to fruition, and my dreams seemed to shatter against the rocks. Although I wrestled with demons and claws of damnation, I had vowed to never forsake the Light that had shone in my soul, though I might chase through clouds to get to it again. But a growing sense of iconoclasm…
View original post 823 more words