stories

I’m sitting under a bridge & I’m high on pills.  I guess I could be any age from 12 to the 38 that I actually am.  I keep hoping that doing these stupid things to recreate the past will jumpstart my traveling back into it.  But I’m too numb now.  Time travel is fueled by emotional energy.  I think I already spent all of mine.  Which makes me stuck like everyone else.  Only moving forward.  Only one second at a time.  It’s not bad.  It’s not terrible.  But it holds me more accountable for my actions.  It means avoiding mistakes, taking less risks.  Accepting my place as part of the machine.  Just waiting until I’m worn out, broken down, & replaced.

***

Staring up at a different cottage cheese ceiling in a different city doesn’t help.  It’s not even a change of scenery.  I can’t outrun my problems because I can’t outrun myself.  I don’t want to exist anymore.  I’m tired & I’m lonely & I hurt.  Why won’t God just let my body break?  I’m just a burden to my friends & family & when I’m gone they’ll all at least secretly be relieved to not need to worry about me anymore.  They’re all just waiting for whatever to happen.  A car crash.  A heart attack.  A drug overdose.  Some random disease.  Whatever’s within God’s will.  Please God, let it happen soon.

***

Dear God,
Please change my narrative.  I don’t want to be sad & hurt & broken & isolated & alone anymore.  I admit that I am too weak & too stupid to fix things & I am pleading for your help & intervention.  Let me be happy & satisfied with the blessings you give me.  Amen.

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