Walking Through the Valley
Utter helplessness. Utter hopelessness. D oes the former more accurately reflect the state of my mind than the latter? Are both accurate? Neither? No question about the "utter" part, unless "Utterly" fits more aptly. No, I'm not playing word games, nor am I minimizing my quest. The angst from which this word-chase derives may be traced to my wrestling with something so senseless. It's not aimless rambling. either. Its genesis began with the death of Courtney, the younger of my two daughters. How I responded to it, or didn't. The quagmire of emotions that either hunted or haunts me. Yes, I felt helpless, without hope, bereft. Death devours sensibility, sensitivity, and stability, among a trillion other losses. In fact, I had learned life, or learned to emulate a pretty average life. Which was alright with me. Let me live out my threescore-and-ten years, I resolved, "or even by reason of streng...
The illusion, yet peaceful
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