"She's nervous about seeing Blue. She keeps holding on to some earlier memory of him in the belief that his essence remains. She had thought he simply needed the right loving hands to peel away the ugly veils and reveal his spirit, but she's no longer sure if she believes in the idea of some essential core, some aspect of self which remains relatively stable and true. If enough worms eat their way through an apple, they will get to its core: they will gnaw away its pithy centre and the whole structure will ultimately collapse, decompose, and become dirt. He might look the same, but then again, you can bite into an apple and find it full of maggots. You can kiss a princess and she turns into a frog. You can fall in love with an illusion that crumbles before you in some unexpected moment - through a simple gesture, a smell, or a misplaced word. You learn that earth is actually heaven, which means that your only options after death are purgatory or hell. A sweeping tour of all the major religions leave you disillusioned, and suddenly you cease to be a believer in anything at all" - Camilla Gibb, 2002.

yet sometimes i find that cynicism and pessimism are merely shields for sore, bruised spots. masks that camouflage the fears that threaten to destroy and desecrate one's passionate beliefs and hopes.
on the other hand, sometimes believing just gets too hard.
god lets you down. people let you down, they change, or refuse to. Or maybe you were just too blind and disillusioned to see that they were never who you thought they were. identities shift, as does dreams, hopes, understandings of the world, like liquid, filling up the molds you surround yourself with. sometimes it gets so confusing.
then shit just happens. or something unexpectedly pleasant comes along.
both of which calls for some sort of coping mechanism.
who is god anyway?
or the persons you are and love?