for Barlaam,
hesychasm was a spastic irregularity in the corpus of
christian dogma, but little did he understand, that every cell of
every body is renewing itself with the turn of the micro-second in
order to prosper into future: to not regenerate cells is to
corporeally decompose... yes, I say: for the fearful and the
passionately destitute, the silence of god is horror but for the
courageous and the passionately fervent, no
clouding on the sky could block out the light of the sun for more
than a passing episode of foredooming nigrescence; the knight of
faith can see no stormy weather and no bittered, grey horizon
outdimming the light of Tabor perenially; only solace-preachers and
apostles of dishonesty would scare themselves over the absence of the
divine because they extrapolate their own impuissance onto it,
dragging their own anxieties and self-hatreds like a mask over the
face of darkness they can not even grasp afore their eyes, but merely
assume is there...
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