When a human being destroys himself to be reborn, he always rescues something special from the well of his loneliness. Waters from this well are only drawn when life is sufficiently poisoned. Shadows are not confined to the corners of his life. There is something nourishing in the darkness. We are vilified for experimenting with what is at the center of our lives. When death comes, one can only hope to be lying in the sun with a good book in hand.
As ever, D.
(Photo by Darius Bashar on Unsplash)