I walked without the heat of the summer sky or the frost of the full moon. Aimless, thoughtless, and so I faltered all the same. But there is something to be said about fire and ice, love and hate; there are no better motivators. You can be lost in that depersonalized wave of alienation and the loss of one's self, and suddenly hate forces you back up again. Hate, so much hate -- false kings and soundless words and blackened hearts. The redness in your hands that tremble with unspeakable -- unspoken -- fury. You bite your tongue until it bleeds.
But hate must be tempered by love. Hate got me up, but love will keep me so. Love may chill me so that I may stop shaking. There is a powerful motion within me that resonates every now and then: the thought that I must be me for the sake of spite. This idea must be tempered in the heart of love, however, so that I may then be me to fulfill my implicit responsibility to others. So though I may clench my fists and stomp my feet, I must eventually use this strength lift up the ones I love. All in due time, all with due effort. Remember the Yellow Lab.
In the midst of it all, love and hate may clash and bicker, but their fruit tastes sweeter than hollow thoughts. Great oak trees will split open, oceans will sink under the weight of their ashes, suns will live and die, but forever my love and hate will contradict one another above. I hope that my love will win. Bright yellow fur, golden as the sun, floats perfectly in the air. All dreams come back to this pup, and she will survive me yet.