This most sought after evanescence is that which makes a man crumple
beneath its weight but makes him as a feather,
that which strikes fear into one's eyes, but brings them to tears, that
which quells anger but arouses bliss. This whisper is
like that of a desert rain, like that of a sun beam barely visible after
scaling the catacombs, gone as soon as it has come.
This explicitly simple yet monumentally complex trinket is what fuels
revolution, and transformation from the fringes of insanity to
that of sage-like wisdom. Where are you, oh fated day? The day when I
open my eyes and see that I have been looking through the ages only to
find
that that which I was looking for was here all along. That the very fact
that I am breathing proves I have purpose, that all I sought after was a
thread in a beautiful tapestry, a
word in a beautiful harmonious song, that my very being will be like the
hums on my tongue? When my perception leaps aloft and I see a rapidly
flickering
dance of my experiences, and find that I have been home all along? Will
solace come my way?

My dearest, you ARE solace. My love, you ARE truth. Every breath you
take changes the winds you fly upon. Every blink of your eyes
illuminates the path to
the majesty that is the very essence you are sewn from. My darling, your
existence is all there needs to be. You ARE home. You have created
yourself, what more
can one ask for? You are a work of art, one rivaled only by god himself.
You are loved, for you embody love. You have always had solace and
could not see it
because you were too busy looking for it elsewhere. Who am I, you ask? I
am you.