-random

I smiled.

Beautifully Written

"Despair remembers.

It is a peculiar, flat memery,
in which things become bleak and bounded by the dark.

There is joy in there,
of course,
and love,
and touching,
The presence that makes the present absence unbearable.

Without truimph,
without love,
without joy,
her work would be for nothing."

-Endless Nights: Fifteen Portraits of Despair. Neil Gaiman.