Don’t ask me questions that have questions
within them; start with the little things first,
and then build up to my prescriptions.
maybe i’m not ready; perhaps i’d burst
if you told me what you’re on about.
i find holes in my work, like anyone would,
and it makes me, too, want to shout
to the stars. But i always did what i could,
and, today, i take the steps i can take,
fitting the boundaries of my day.
i’d advise you to think of what’s at stake,
happiness is the one and only way
forward—everything else veers off track,
attempting to grab what is not there.
i’m happy, even so, to have your back,
because i know, deep down, that you care.
Tune into the clock, and then do your best to tune it out. Listen to your breathing—empty your mind, if you can, and, if you can’t, seek help. Pray about it, if you can pray: put your heart and your insecurities into your words, and your burden, little by little, will be shared by those that find no burden in helping others—which follows automatically when we help ourselves, and the world is a better place.
You tell me that i’m living in an echo chamber, but the statement, in and of itself, proves that i’m getting through to you—you can hear me. I, too, ask for distraction, unable to know, with certainty, that consciousness will continue after i leave this 4D body behind.
A little faith, which comes, naturally, when we are at peace, will have to do, now and forever. I have seen the depths of hell with my own two eyes—a place, I decided, that exists, mostly, on TV. Desperate shades mirror the itty-bitty bad in me, leaving me entertained, since i know that good wins out, in the end.