Every offense is not a hate at first.
Fear has a large shadow, but he himself is small.
Courage looks you straight in the eye. She is not impressed with power trippers, and she knows first aid. Courage is not afraid to weep, and she is not afraid to pray, even when she is not sure who she is praying to. When she walks it is clear she has made the journey from loneliness to solitude. The people who told me she was stern were not lying. they just forgot to mention she was kind.
Anxiety is secretive. He does not trust anyone, not even his friends, Worry, Terror, Doubt and Panic. . . He likes to visit me late at night when I am alone and exhausted. I have never slept with him, but he kissed me on the forehead once, and I had a headache for two years.
Beauty is startling. She wears a gold shawl in the summer and sells seven kinds of honey at the flea market. She is young and old at once, my daughter and my grandmother. In school she excelled in mathematics and poetry. . . Beauty will dance with anyone who is brave enough to ask her.
Compassion speaks with a slight accent. She was a vulnerable child, miserable in school, cold, shy. . . In ninth grade she was befriended by Courage. Courage lent Compassion bright sweaters, explained the slang, showed her how to play volleyball.
Pain is subtle. He has cold grey fingers. His voice is horse from crying & screaming. . . When people try to avoid him, he follows them silently & turns upas the bartender, or the bus driver. . . Pain has an elaborate filing system for keeping track of everyone. . . Pain respects people who are willing to take risks. If you. . . face him directly, he will give you a special ointment so your wounds don't fester.
Oppression does not make for hearts as big as all outdoors. Oppression makes us big and small. Expressive and silenced. Deep and dead.
All of this is for fun anyway.
When in doubt, shoot. That's how I look at it.
The world has raised its whip; where will it descend?