Chapter 152: Love is the Answer

With all the disorder happening in the world, there is a certainty left in the middle of the confusing chaos. There will always be a material substance left dancing with the principles of the cosmos, which is mainly a form of magical particle that leaves an imprint in everything that it touches. It travels through, far and wide, and in such magnitude as it was both qualified to be unquantifiable and immeasurable.

But despite this certainty in the midst of the disorderly movement of things (especially when noted in the midst of darkness and emptiness), all substances take a distinct level of invisible disturbance from unknown values of the predicate motion that forces things to move through at a distance, perhaps quickly or even in the subtlest of ways, and this phenomena has become the fundamental basis for a lasting effect, which then eventually takes the role of moving distinct particles of grace into the stillness of space, amd ends by mending the vacuum of the divine emptiness in the cosmos that ultimately becomes the desired healing of all creation.

In its purest form, then, nature (as a creation itself), and every other invisible element that defines this conscious existence, is outright immaculate in its very essence, and there is no intrinsic bad substances attached to its intimate character; that any corruption must come from an outside impetus that will require extreme effort in order to penetrate the fabric of holiness, the whitest metaphysical substance ever created and the universal mantle of protection known to have existed in all the realm of the cosmos. Yet, this trusted method has been utterly defeated by the sinister methodology of unconventional evil by callously removing the natural shield of divine clothing of the created, with the fountain of sacred holiness being corrupted by the slime and sacrilegious dirt building inside the instrumental fragility of the broken heart.

As death begins to enter creation, and within its walls begin to rage with fear that breaks the living heart, the eternal light begins to purposively penetrate the soul. That while the physical brokenness leave a mark of unholy yet pleasing devotion to the essence of being, the soul begins to truly live while the outer shell begins to whither, and then the whole process reverts into something new that sprouts from the ruins of the earth; by then, it ultimately leads to the celestial promise of immortal creation.

In a much deeper sense, this pretext can also be noted as a subconscious case of the reversal of roles, a society which can be truly manifested as the main artery to the efficacy of miracles associated with the paschal mystery of grace; for with it, this materiality defines the presence of a necessary evil in the destiny of the mythology of dreams, a story foretold by the abundance of the constellations of stars, an eternity so great that only its main quality be measured by the unknown episteme of Heaven.

In everything that transpired from the beginning of creation, the disorder has become the main theme accentuated in a negative and propesterous way that it becomes unacceptable even from the earliest revelation of the divine order of things. Chaos has simply become more pronounced than the actual stillness of the created, and even the darkness seems to dim the glorious light that is already illuminated, and shines so bright, far and beyond.

But in all of the substantiated forms of the evil of darkness, there is despair. Loneliness has reigned once again, despite the assurance of the raging fire within; for time always turns its back on those who knew nothing of the sin that originated from nowhere. There is no beginning and end in a story where man existed in the same condition that God is, and it has been noted that misery loves company. Disorder suddenly turns into conflict, as well as love into hatred. It is like a thief in the night, a serpent strategically waiting to strike an unsuspecting prey. Cunning is camouflaged as to its true intents and purposes. Subsequently, the healing of the unlikely wounds then becomes the useful tool of death by corrupting the needs of the physical manifestation of the soul. With all of the surrounding madness, death releases its most potent venom yet. It is a known pandemic, after all. Despair is a very familiar name, is it not?

Loyalty, though rare to find, is not entirely absent. It will spring from another creation, probably in a much lesser form, but it is a loyal friend. Its mere presence is a company of sorts, a guide, an illumination of the unlikely paths; indeed, it understand the human condition better than any one else that you may have known.

For, as it was in the beginning, love is always the answer. Nobody can eclipse this absolute truth.

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