What is This Blasphemy?! Oh, my Mistake, it's Just Mimicry.

Journal #4

Then Frieda learned to revel in Life. Life, the fickle entity with discriminatory tendrils who reached across oceans and plains. The shapeless mass who rents a tenement in every being's heart, though always keeping his belongings packed. Where does Life recede to upon its exit? He listens like a labored lackey that has been worked hard for days. Listens to no man's pleas with his withdrawal at the ready, attentive for his rent to expire in one of his servants. Has listened vigorously with his skillful attentiveness. She had been wanting to come across a vine from the elusive creature's reaches hidden in her garden with a moment's notice. She became joyful yet bitter. Unfortunate Diego! He vuz having to lay in zehr sans his compatriots. Frieda fretted for Hector forayed in to request a moment of happiness, though Diego decided against. The townsfolk vere incompetent in matters of dead life, though they connected with this instance of Diego. He could find what he was looking for once the ferryman had pushed off without him. He would continue his push through life. This is where they all had their minds. Though Hector recited a different tune, and she grasped the situation. As well had he not, upon her return she could have discerned, as villagers wanted to pay respect in the courtyard of red bricks and contrasting marble pillars. Individuals who could not have dreamt to congregate among the bricks and pillars until now swept through and did not venture towards the dwelling. Simply brushed and leaned against the pillars and glanced. Melancholy, that branch-free shade-tree, had shown light upon the folk.

P.S.: In sentence 2, the phrase "who lived way in the West" was an allusion to the Egyptian god Osiris traveling across the sky with the sun and going down to the land of the dead at sunset which is in the West.