[Psalm 13]

1 How long, O LORD ? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
2 How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and every day have sorrow in my heart?
How long will my enemy triumph over me?
3 Look on me and answer, O LORD my God.
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death;
4 my enemy will say, "I have overcome him,"
and my foes will rejoice when I fall.
5 But I trust in your unfailing love;
my heart rejoices in your salvation.
6 I will sing to the LORD,
for he has been good to me.

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I don't want to explain what has been going on. I don't want to feel what has been going on. I only know right now that when my fingers have finally gripped one piece of hope my other hand loses hold.
I am persevering. I am breathing and I am praying.
I don't know if things will be okay. I don't know if I will be okay. I know that I believe in healing, I believe in love, and I believe in hope and change.
and this is what I have. and I can only do this one day at a time.

[inspired under boots. ]

I am only uninspired when it is important that i write or create. No, that is not true. It is when I over think it. It is when I avoid feeling too much. It is months (years?) of seroquel thickening my blood. You can see it all regressing. Start with November and walk back five years. Everything I am proud of in a large sketch book. Filled with words and pastels. Oh this makes sense. No lines. Lots of sense. How I will eventually write short stories is beyond me. Ah, yes. This will do.