There is such Hell of different flavors swirling around me. Almost every single close person to me is in a serious crisis of a sort. Like sand devils just sprang up to engulf. And I'm totally powerless to do anything but witness.
Yet I feel personally blessed- I kicked the opiates and fuck them; my new apartment awaits me and it's perfect; things are going well for once in the longest time...
I wonder if this is how superiors feel among us mere mortals? ;) It's a heavy mix. Not for children. It hurts to watch suffering. Really, physically hurts, in the gut.
I just have to believe in the good; in the end it'll be brilliant and worth the suffering. The Right wins, dammit. It has to. Or there's no meaning at all to existing and that's too horrid, even in a shit world like this is.