Nothing works for me when I’m rundowneyesburningkneeshurt tired—nothing. Not cookin’, juicin’, readin’ my gottamakeyoufeelgood devotion—nothin’. And I hurt on the inside with words I can’t find within my vocabulary lost in the winds of my mind; stuck and can’t come out. So I just sit in my blue chair and watch Babylon 5 on my computer and get lost in an unreality confused about its own god and think about prayer and fasting and reading my bible and not being able to answer the question about how I’m doin’ and what’s goin’ on with me and all that other mess. But to survive I’ve got to go through my room of jello and hope it doesn’t gel and I get stuck in the pain position—no movement, just stopped still.
But I’ve put these words on paper; incomplete as they are…
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Your room of jello? Nice.
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