Usually I am not fond of this city, because she has fostered boys and not taught them to be men. She has housed people in projects and given them their own faulty thinking in radio waves to perpetuate their destruction. She has given her daughters to the slave trade called “acceptance” and told them all to wash down their cynicism with ignorance.
But not today.
Today she was washed clean with rain and the goodness that she can be shone forth like a rough hewn jewel. All those windows reflected the sunset and the lights glittered in the twilit evening. She threw down the robes that hardship, oppression, and war manufactured her from the darkest years of her life, and I loved her. This is new.
One: My friend Jeff Stuckel was right. Good conversations happen late at night. And there is no comparison to seeking the Truth with all your heart. At 3 a.m. there isn’t really anything to do but be honest.