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Quote by Jonathan Harnisch

“I have no more fight left, the will to keep going has been extinguished and I am ready to throw in the towel. I'm on the verge of giving up. Everything feels meaningless now, my heart is empty and I can't see any light for the future. This unbearable weight of despair seems never-ending, casting a shadow of hopelessness over everything.”

Quote by Jonathan Harnisch

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Jonathan Harnisch

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“We are more moth than we know: small, frustrated, capable of only tickling a world that we wish would feel our heft. We share that attractions towards the brightest object in our field of view, an equal fascination with candles and conflagrations. We sense the danger, but we can't look away. In fact we are drawn to circle it endlessly, getting closer and closer until it consumes us. Even when we think the sky might be falling, we stay to watch. It is elemental to us, this alertness, this panicked, flitting attention. Fire is the shadow side of enchantment, the dar, gleaming sorcery from which we can't tear our gaze. It shows us the wild danger that still resides in nature, the power it retains to devour and destroy. It is impolite, contagious, capable of catching from house to house while we stand helpless. It licks our palms like a moth in cupped hands. We have not understood this earth's full potency until we have recognised fire. Too often, we have allowed ourselves to believe that we can live whole lives in the absence of suffering. We are told that uniform happiness is the only desirable experience. But this in itself is a disenchantment. Fire brings us back into contact with the cycle of life, with the limits of our control, and with the full spectrum of human feeling. It teaches us hard lessons and burns through our fragile illusions. Without it, we are living only a surface existence, a shallow terrain. We must assimilate fire to become whole again.”

SufferingLife Perspective
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“Mother! Ripped apart. Reaped stones of poverty, weeds that sprouted. Grown to fast, crowned young mother. HIV reaped the harvest of my parents left me with nothing but toddler to take care of. Robbed my youth and my hey days, left naked among a thousand suns. The splendor, the splendor of pain. My face is beautiful broken pottery, a poetry art scene. The screams inside ravage and rammer the very child born along thorns of anguish.”

PainPoetrySufferingWomanhoodRapeAfrican LiteratureColour PetuniaAfrican Philosophy
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“Live neither in your past, nor in your future; you cannot change the past, nor can you definitively predict the future. If you hold yourself hostage to the sins and bitterness of the past, and occupy yourself with fears of suffering in the future, you will be losing on your presence, hence not living at all. What is worse than suffering itself, is living hostage to such fear. Be assured that Allah Ta'āla is close to you — closer than you think — and closer than you and I could ever comprehend. The question is: are you close to Him?”

PastSufferingFuturePresent MomentPresence
Book:The Book of Love
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