abstract
I am trying very hard not to allow myself to slide into despair. Waves of regret conspire to overwhelm me, even when I readily confess that nothing I fear has happened. Yet. A sense of foreboding gnaws at me, a profound and tangible loss of something that isn't even mine.
If I believed in a higher power I just might see this as part of a Grand Design. Instead, I see it as a con game. We lost.
I am trying very hard not to allow myself to slide into despair. Waves of regret conspire to overwhelm me, even when I readily confess that nothing I fear has happened. Yet. A sense of foreboding gnaws at me, a profound and tangible loss of something that isn't even mine.
If I believed in a higher power I just might see this as part of a Grand Design. Instead, I see it as a con game. We lost.
If I believed in a higher power I just might see this as part of a Grand Design. Instead, I see it as a con game. We lost.
posted by extraspecialbitter at 9:49 AM
2 Comments:
I have no idea what you're referring to, but I thought it was interesting because I wrote this last night:
An impenetrable well buried within me
A reservoir of restlessness
Turning drop by drop into dread
I can hear its damp echo
But I don't know its end
The unplunged depths sit, a menacing threat.
So it seems we're feeling the same way lately. Huh.
I'm right there with you.
Wish you well.
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