Words

I'm having trouble processing my life right now, as I'm sure anyone in my position would. Mind doesn't know exactly where to go with it and my body is a wreck trying to direct the tension in a thousand directions that all lead to the dead end of a closed circuit system. I find myself feeling more feelings of compassion and empathy than I've ever felt, but also a deeply unsettling abhoration for the act that has been committed. How does one reconcile a strong sense of hatred for an act with a strong sense of love and empathy for the one that committed the act. That is not a real question. There is no real answer. I am in no way sympathetic to the act or why it was committed because it simply should not ever be, but I feel a deeply resonating compassion toward the soul who must now bear the heavy consequences of the act, not because of the consequences, but because of their affect on an already mangled psyche. Sometimes, you're the one who puts that last straw into you own load. I don't want to see a soul broken but a soul rise from these ugly and disgusting ashes. I want to see change and healing and growth and reconciliation with the reality and the ideal. I want this to be the moment that marks the end of a long suffering not in darkness but in light. I want there to be light out of this. Brigid let there be light out of this.