My fears are big and my chest is tight. I find it hard to breathe right, to pray, to love. Okay God, where the hell are you? I'm so fucking sick and tired. I'm bored, lonely, resentful, easily frustrated and nitpicking. I'm overwhelmed by life's disappointments and all that will never be made right.
The storms rage on across this dying planet, orphan children are sold as sex toys, holy wars hold whole nations hostage and trees that stood when Jesus walked the earth are being cut down for a quick buck. Unfortunately most of us who could make a difference are too preoccupied organizing potlucks, designing blogs and making money to pay for our car insurance to notice all that.
I've resigned, given up and checked out. You are hiding somewhere far away from here God. Perhaps you are on a retreat ministering to suburban housewives or maybe you and Zeus are sipping margaritas on a Greek coast somewhere. Who knows. All I know is I'm having a real hard time seeing you these days. That probably says more about me than you. Probably.
I won't pull myself up by my bootstraps or fake it 'til I make it. I can't ignore, repress or pretend. But I won't allow myself to be paralyzed either. I am blind, deaf and lame and the path has turned into a treadmill but I continue on. I choose to put one foot in front of the other, acknowledging the sham and drudgery without becoming entirely intoxicated by it. I have come to embrace the valleys and be still in the darkness. This too shall pass. Dawn is inevitable.
Hope springs eternal in the human breast;
Man never Is, but always To be blest:
The soul, uneasy and confin'd from home,
Rests and expatiates in a life to come.