There are days when you think you’re going to relax. You’re going to breathe anxiety and pain away.
And then a host of new anxieties and heartache and alonenesses (yes, I’ve decided it’s a word) come and settle all over you like locusts. Until you don’t really know what to breathe away and what to rest off. Perhaps this is new cloud of locusts is a mercy. Now you have so much OTHER shit to wade through that the original turd is lost in the larger, smellier pile. So thank goodness for enormous piles of shit that bury you so effectively you can’t even breathe good enough to think of pain and mortality.
So …. What’s YOUR original turd and your heaping pile?