It takes years to overcome the trauma and accept the life sentence. . .
We remember almost nothing of the horror of earliest life, just fragments of misery. . .certain smells remind us how repulsive the stink of life once was, and how now we barely notice. . .
Shards of memories remain, images of *adults,* those who had assimilated, in acts of torment.
This trauma is easily verified by observing babies and toddlers. . .babies cry at life, while toddlers stare dumb at what fate has presented them.
Around the ages of four to six, the child begins the process of assimilation, and inflicts his or her own pain on the life near him or her, tearing the wings off flies, knocking down smaller children, kicking and flailing at parents.
Life becomes the day-to-day chore of endurance. . .
He who endures to the end shall be saved. . .
He who has faith in the Higher Power who set him here, he who has faith God shall wipe away all tears from his eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away, he who has faith, the same shall be saved.
The only mystery remains at the end of each day. . .
At the end of each Godforsaken day, as we rest from the labor of life, we are dropped into a pool of dreams. . .
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