Random.Misc.Etc

Sometimes a man grows tired of carrying everything the world heaps upon his head. The shoulders sag, the spine bows cruelly, the muscles tremble with weariness. Hope of relief begins to die. And the man must decide whether to cast off his load or endure it until his neck snaps like a brittle twig in autumn.

…..I deserved everything the world had heaped on—and torments after death far worse than any the world could threaten: the torture of my skeleton, the rape and dismemberment of my immortal soul—though I deserved all that and more, I found that I could no longer bear the weight.

I realized that I didn’t have to bear it, you see. I came to understand that I had a choice. It must have been difficult for Christ himself to withstand the agonies of the cross—the filth, the thirst, the terrible spikes raping the jellied flesh of his hands—knowing that he had a choice. And I am not Christ, not even by half.