I am here to shout against the rising dark.
To say to you—yes, you, individually, yourself reading this—that I know how hard it has become. To believe in a future. To aspire.
Do not let them do this to you.
Do not allow the ways of the world, this bitter storm turn you away from its rage. Grimace in the teeth of it, and breathe the cold, alive despite it.
You have a future. And in it is love and warmth, skies and seas and trees and all the wonders they reveal. No matter how small the men who grind the world become, you will have your days, your skies, your sunsets, your kisses.
And tides will turn. Soon or late, but turn they will. Fight for that moment. Lift your voice. Resist.
But as importantly, live. These are days which will either grind us down or break us open into a joy none can take from us. The joy that floats like a reflection on a calm pool of equanamity, impossible to remove; which returns, obdurate, even after a disturbance momentarily plunges the image into a dance of colors.
Hold your loved ones close. Drink the wine and eat the delicious peach. Walk in the wood and see the dappled light, the rainbow-spangled Moon among the stars.
It is only if they break our spirits that those who seek to trample us can win.
Do not let them. Do not ever.