There is mysterious comfort in the written word. They emerge slowly and meticulously and like a painting, they visualize and they clarify, giving shape to the thoughts one usually repeats endlessly in the mind at lightning speed. Where the enemy can be seen, he can be fought. The words themselves are the weapons. However, they do not hurt the enemy, instead they allow you to stab deep into the recesses of your mind and your heart. There they find the torrent of emotion and thoughts within; the fear, the pain, the sadness. The words question the enemy and with each question comes an answer and with each answer comes another question. The words dig deeper and deeper and so reveals he truth.
And the truth, if true, comforts.
And the truth, if true, comforts.
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