... wondre maladie

I wish and want so badly to have the energy to express a small part of what I'm feeling tonight. It will help no one and hurt someone. The short-lived joys of petty vengeance, griping towards the grave of the day.

Fuck it all. Last night I told myself I would try to post again. Tonight is another matter. 

How much nothing can be endured. It cannot be an infinite amount. 

Is nothing the opposite of the infinite? 

Then when, Oh Lord, when will it cease?

If no love is, O God, what fele I so. 

.