the randomness will move on…rage against the dying of the light!

Posted: September 13, 2010 in my obscure view of stuffs

I am often accused of being somewhat naïve. I think it’s wholly plausible to come to that conclusion if you base this assertion purely on a fleeting and cursory surface investigation. I like to think of myself as lacking in cynicism, believing in the innate altruism of humankind, and not burdened by a feeling that the road I travel is constantly at a steep gradient. But most of all… willing to fight!

I’m not a “every cloud has a silver lining”, “everything happens for a reason” , “look on the bright-side” type of person (heave). I know sh*t happens, some very big sh*t happens and sadly to some of the very best people, but I find dissecting the randomness and reason of said sh*t a waste of otherwise good coffee, wine and company.

It really is just the luck of the draw isn’t it? None of us are deserving of immunity from sadness, grief or tragedy and at some stage of our life the randomness is going to find us. One cannot escape it – eventually it’s our turn and if we’re able to make the lasting memory of this be not the event itself, but rather that we triumphed in adversity – then we have emerged victorious.

So whatever challenges you are currently facing, whatever baggage you are carrying from past hurts, no matter how tough it is – it CANNOT last, it is not infinite and the lifespan and staying-power of this pain is only as strong as the life-force you give it. The randomness will move on … it will find its next target and you WILL again feel the sun on your face, be able to smile from inside and feel pure joy again.

I have many friends who are facing insurmountable obstacles, lives torn apart through none of their own doing and some even the possibility of leaving this Earth far too young and far too soon. Don’t give up! Draw strength for the fight from those closest to you, arm yourself… “Do not go gentle into that good night!” Whatever your “good night” may be…


Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rage at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

  1. Karin says:

    This really touched my heart.

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