I pray that I will write and keep writing before I know what’s really going on. For if I were to see the breadth and depth of my ignorance, how small a stone I throw into the waters of the world, I think I would utterly freeze, speechless.
I am afraid, too, that I will become one such that nothing surprises me anymore. How tragic, if the heart ceases ever to race again, falls into an eternal routine of rub-dub, rub-dub.
For what I know still surprises me if I choose to look at it. Though there is pain everywhere, people dying, people killing — even with all that, people still believe in people.
The world is not made without adversity, for instead, we are made strong enough to withstand it. In this realization lies one of the secrets to life.
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