diary / by Edward Mullany

It might even be said that an awareness of one’s solitude, and a safeguarding of it, is a necessary condition by which love can reveal its value. For it is in the desert of our solitude, and not in the noise of those elements of civilization that would have us see nothing of beauty in a desert (as there is nothing there to commodify, nothing to be bought and sold), that the values by which we would persist, in defiance of an existential meaninglessness, are to be found, and shaped, and made vital.