Insomniatic Rambling.

The waves crash.
It's like the night. Echoes, in my ears, in my heart.
My soul responds with all it's joy and outrage at this bitter cold beautifully warm world that i have been cast into.
What part of me *belongs* here? I feel so torn, sometimes. I love the world for it's vibrance and love and passion and vivid colors. I despise it for it's hatred and envy, it's bigotry, it's greys and blacks and puces.

With each footfall on my lifepath I try to remember:
This is a pilgrimage to a higher place.

I struggle to accept that, and all that in entails.

I fail.
I get up and i fall, and i fall.
I have bruises on my shins, and scratches on my arms, and my eyes are sodden.
When will this journey be finished?
I struggle for my destination and find it forever out of reach. Forever shining bright upon the hill where i can see it's light, but can not feel it's warmth.

What am I supposed to learn?

I over analyze everything. Life is full of meaning that i can not understand.

And so i embrace it all.
I open my heart to the wonder of living, and try to remember that is the reason I am here. To accept that I can not. To learn that I am only myself.

 There is so much to love about this world, and so much to despise.
I try not to let the darkness envelope, but sometimes, it does.
But there is always light again.

There is rain, and there are trees. And fresh cut grass. There are books, and parks, and dogs and cats and there are smiles, and there is laughter, and there is friendship.
The moon, the stars, and the immense universe that we have only begun to fathom. There is the deepest ocean. There are sandy beaches, and phosphorescent  nightwaves cresting.
There is romance, and heartache, and pleasure and pain, and i want to enjoy every minute of it, and be grateful for every last breath that i take.

Is it wrong to want to enjoy the world, when my faith declares i am not to be *of* it?
Is the world it declares the world I love? Or a different world that spins away from me?

It is hard to live.

But, that, perhaps, is why i love it so much.

It seems that everything you must struggle for is, once you have crested the pain and the difficulty, beautiful.