The aching of all things in their self-hatred. In their loathing for themselves. In their atheism.
The atheism of air, of water, of the earth. And our own atheism, which is at the heart of our self-hatred.
The air hates being the air. The air’s just wandering lost in air. The air, dazed in air. Just like water’s flowing lost in water. Just like water weeps tears in water. And we hate being ourselves, we who are without God.
Work in Progress 