Mass

"Going to Mass during the week doesn't count."

I hate writing this.

A swirl of thoughts as I sit sadly- a vitamix of variety in Bible verses and ideas ideated earlier.

The Light lit when it wasn't supposed to and the people who could see were angry but those who couldn't before found themselves jumping for joy because life is now spectacular.

And and how does a sense of purpose vanish from us so subtly that we can't tell when it goes, we mistake the shutting of the back door with the normal bang of the washing machine and hum of the dryer.

The problem is this guy is kind and he cares about me. Which one of us sees? I wish the light would tell me because I can't live my life in a false darkness when what I want is right in front of me.

And maybe I know what the truth is but I won't accept it because I don't want to.

It is a historic battle. My God doesn't care what day of the week it is but thank you you are clearly a great person have a wonderful day.

I will continue with my day knowing not knowing, jealous of those who do or think they do.

How, how can I love a man and not take his advice and walk away thinking I'm right, I'm right, I'm always right?