Consummatum Est

It is finished.




And I don't think Jesus wept.


Neither have I. But I will.




Soon, I hope.


Because I need to.




And could I be more cryptic?




Yes. Yes, I can.




-------------


Edit.




And finally, alone in my room, seconds after posting, the long-awaited tears fell.


Hot on my cheeks, pent-up emotions flowing from deep wells.


I weep for all that is lost.


I weep for all that will now be forever gone.


And all I needed to say was


"I will miss you all."


And yes, welcome tears.


Fall, fall, fall.

Rain

“The rain falls upon the just 

And also on the unjust fellas 

But mostly it falls upon the just 

Cause the unjust have the just's umbrellas” 

- Cormac McCarthy, The Stonemason

The Killing Moon

The killing moon

Will come too soon

The killing time

Unwillingly mine 

- Echo & The Bunnymen, The Killing Moon

So this is how it feels.


To know something terrible is going to happen.


To know that one is obliged to warn those concerned about it.


To know that their reactions will be of anguish, despair, and yes, loss.




It's not the end of the world; far from it.


Just the end of a world.


And a requiem for a dream.


A dream that took nightmarish turns, to be sure. But a dream that started out well.




By the next full moon, it will be done.




I hate this year so far.