It's 1.24 in the morning and my twilight life is at it's peak. Only this time I am threatened to be wet with tears that refuse to come and fulfill my inner emotion. "He who laughs" has been left tear-stained, lost in a dettol-soaked environment.

And I sit here fretting over the inconsequential. I need to get over myself.

But for now I will bleed for him, for the apparent cruelty of God. But I am not here in the picture, this isn't about me and it is not my story. I can only trust that God is impeccably beautiful, strong and good.

And I will rest in this.

But yes,
OH GOD, HEAR OUR CRY!