“All that hatred down there…

…All that hatred and misery and love. It’s a wonder it doesn’t blow the avenue apart.”
– Sonny (“Sonny’s Blues” by James Baldwin)

Sometimes it feels like the world is so empty. There are lifeless people, shells that don’t hold anything, wandering around, chasing something that doesn’t exist. Everything is an illusion and nothing truly exists and no one can feel a thing. There is no worth; there is no reason to persist or try. No one knows anything but what they think they see and hear, and all words have no meaning behind them – they are but empty vessels floating through our ears.

Other times it feels like the world is so full. Full of life. Full of love. Full of faith and hope and inspiration and reason. Intangible everythings. Peace and freedom and spirituality and purity. Some shadow and darkness, too, but it’s outstripped, outshone, by the lilting grace of everything else. Then it feels like the world is so full of everything that nothing could possibly hold it in, and it shall explode into a supernova that glows with flames that are streams of golden, luminous life and dreams made palpable, that literally flow from our fingertips and lips and eyes and hair and heart. And this phoenixlike blast will be a blessing, a celebration and rebirth of all that is good.

Perhaps like a phoenix, though, the world is left in a state of ash, completely devoid of wonder – emptied – until the good people of the world fill it up again. They renew it over and over within themselves until the world is full once more. And unless the good people patiently and tirelessly work to refill, the world will never reach this apex, where only for a moment, all is right, and we can’t want for more.

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