The Weight of Ink

by Rachel Kadish

“Never underestimate the passion of a lonely mind.”

Existing, you and I and all thinkers are in danger. Is this why you say less than you believe?

A definition of loneliness surfaced in his mind: when you suddenly understand that the story of your life isn’t what you thought it was.

I believe in no heaven or hell, nor any world to come, yet I know not whether life be snuffed wholly by death or merely assume some unknown form.

Yes. It was indeed all of our history. No people’s thread was separate from any other’s, but everyone’s fate was woven together in this illuminated, love-stricken world. There could be no standing apart.

For is not life solitary, and every thinker lonely?

The world too much hates a freed thought or heart.

And let me dispense with my foolish dream of leaving the tracery of my thought whole, perhaps to be read in an age in which there is greater kindness. It is not such an age. Let the truth be ash.