Closure

This blog began with the intention of writing out my sorrow, my frustrations, my confusion, my tears, my pain; and, 358 posts later, I believe it has run its course. Nick Cave is right, "There always will be suffering. / It flows through life like water." Despite that, "Sorrow has its natural end."

As such, there exists no reason to continue this blog.

A dirge for this final post:


Brompton Oratory
(Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds)

Up those stone steps I climb
Hail this joyful day's return
Into its great shadowed vault I go
Hail the Pentecostal morn

The reading is from Luke 24
Where Christ returns to his loved ones
I look at the stone apostles
Think that it's alright for some

And I wish that I was made of stone
So that I would not have to see
A beauty impossible to define
A beauty impossible to believe

A beauty impossible to endure
The blood imparted in little sips
The smell of you still on my hands
As I bring the cup up to my lips

No God up in the sky
No devil beneath the sea
Could do the job that you did, baby
Of bringing me to my knees

Outside I sit on the stone steps
With nothing much to do
Forlorn and exhausted, baby
By the absence of you


Thus closes a chapter in my life.

Thank you, readers and commentators, for the company the past year-and-a-half.

My voice has found a new home in another blog, Sandbox.

We are nomads, all.

Tsetchem leshalom.