this morning I

I know sharing the prayer below subverts the conclusion of my angst.

But that subversion is the reason I'm sharing it with you in front of everybody.

So many missionaries I know talk about spiritual warfare. And it's said the best thing to do is to drag all the evil out in the open, into the light of day, where we can see it for what it is and laugh at it.

Not that laughter is exactly the response I'm looking for at the moment!

But I'm dragging the evil out in the open for you to examine and destroy...



This morning I don't know why to put clothes on.
What's the point of hanging clothes of this ugly carcass?
I could wear a clown suit and it would be more appropriate!
Oh look. I am wearing a clown suit! My taste is horrible...

This morning I don't know why to eat breakfast.
Why feed this stupid body?
What's the point of chew, chew, chew, swallow
when the food turns to cardboard in my mouth,
and all I'm doing is keeping myself alive
so I'll be able to have another mouthful of cardboard.

This morning I don't know why to leave the house.
What's the point of leaving the house,
when I know I'm just going to come back again.
When the reason I leave is stupid.
All that's going to happen is stupid conversations,
misunderstandings and disappointment.

This morning I don't know why to drive safely.
What's the point of driving safely? Apart from not killing all the other people...
No one else looks where they're going.
Look! That woman's eating cereal and texting!
It'd be much better to go screamingly fast, spin around the corners and get somewhere.
Far away.

This morning I don't know why I should ever write anything again.
I express myself so poorly!
But that's all my ideas deserve.
They're just the derivative ravings of a madwoman.
Dribble.

This morning I don't know why.