I feel down. The feeling you have been knocked out by a sucker punch to the gut. I feel disconnected, demotivated, empty. I want to cry. I really do. But what good would that do me. It would serve me no greater purpose other than to prove to my oppressors of my weakness and supposed ingenuity. I wish I could excrete my sadness in it's brave form, yet this tiny insignificant blog should suffice. My not being voted into that damned council for the sake of my even more damned pride has crushed me to the core. I feel demoted from society. As if my presence among men is to remain unnoticed and silent without emotion except my very self. I fear I might one day become quite mad with the feelings boiled and bottled down here. It seethes inside the body, corroding the innocence of mind and purity of heart. The only thing that could curdle the cream even more so is the fact that several idiots who do not deserve to be in the council are there. It is a mere popularity contest. Of which I have obviously conceded. And no one knows the wiser. I am lonely surely, and almost certain to always be so. To want the very praise of men, empty recognition to savor, for that temporary feeling of wholesomeness. That is the life I am doomed to want but never receive. Perhaps that is also for the better. And for all the good it has done, my Lord is an invisible God of single presence and comforts me, yet still alone. He created woman yet left men to suffer an even worser fate, segregation. Does it make sense? Can any be happy about it? I do not seem to be...

Do not daft and utterly proud of yourself. You are nothing, a mere speck in another's eye. What could you do to catch their attention? What could you say in your helpless defense? That God is your help and only medal? Your scholarship rests in philosophical thinking, questionable and unmeasured. Even younger men have done better than you. Why do you think so highly of yourself? Does it give you security and comfort? Or would you rather crouch sulkily in self pity? Such is the emotion you feel now. Such is the maturity you have achieved towards women. You think you understand them. Yet you do not lift a finger to change oneself in order to suit them. Though the time and place change, you are still the same character, proud and ignorant. Even the Great Wall is more moveable than you. Can anyone help you but yourself? The Creator of the Universe could not help you for your stiff-necked attitude. Nor could the warmest friend light up your cold fortitude...

Alas my friend, do not fret.

Calm yourself like Christ calmed the storm.

Time is still on your side yet,

neither pride nor emotion can be undone.

Tis time to grow up, an adult, and be like one.

Slow the heart behind the mind,

in order to put reason before emotion.

Decide yourself firmly the change within the person.

Do so quickly, before you forget, and lose and regret.

Climb the hills and dig the trenches,

Be brave enough to extend your ground,

Beat down mockers and prove those wretches

That you are worth that trumpet's sound.

This last advice i give you, friend,

Do not long for things out of reach,

But chase them seriously till the end,

Practice the talk you loudly preach,

Prove to yourself as the curtain descends.