Traveling thoughts

Upon the approach to my transitory home I am met with feelings wide ranging, ranging from nostalgia to euphoria... but yet all are foreshadowed by a cloud that dulls out the horizon of petty thoughts and feelings. People from the previous three weeks I rarely miss yet, yet I miss the emotional contact and elements of fleeting passion passing in my life.
Yet pale do they compare to that which rages my passions in aroused and violent settings, for driven I am by the thought of severe injustice and fated loss.
Loss implies ownership, but what i have not gained sole possession of I have never owned. But yet no other word can so substitute to the explaining of my state than the word loss, for in all moments of physical isolation the driving desire to possess that which is mine has driven me, so I do alas feel loss.
Passions inflamed to a combustible level, threatening my very sanity and well being I must endeavor to check, and thus is the birth of this post.
This I feel is yet a time of testing, yet again. I feel haggard and verge on the edge of savagely complaining against fate, yet as always fate will press on and the course of action will still not through any great expenditure of rage.
I must give thanks for the path chosen before my existence in concession of I, I in a state of enlightenment, a higher intelligence than of now(foresight perhaps)has but advanced another step toward that which must bring explanation to that which puzzles me. Alas I must fight these embittering thoughts of life for life has asked much of me, yet it has not left me without resources to meet its payments, though they scrape the bottom of my will and pierce my soul as to the bone, its demands I can meet. I ought to pity those I now envy for though life has(I feel) extracted little from them in turn they have been given little of character. For though I contest at times the chiseling of my character, thanks should be given that as of yet I am not brittle to the touch of fate.
I submit to the hands of my God, I know beyond my fleeting questions His will I trust. For he has not demanded beyond my former ascent, and of now he has not asked above my will to give though this sears my soul with a pain previously unbelieved tolerable by I, I will give his will sole rule.
Perhaps pain be my signature to life, but though of now this try my tolerance to accept the demise I will refute these torments, and as of now I will deny myself the only left pleasure in life...