a horrible stick in the worry I am starting to feel the gathering clouds of doom gathering over my head. Quickly my time ticks by in huge chunks of life, my life. . . I don't know what to do. Why is it in these situations I can never help but feel all of my lackings, wantings, and horrible faults seep from the very bowels of my psyche to poke me with a long knobby stick. The stick has not dulled with age. You'd seriously think that with time one would learn to not take the horrid jabs quite as seriously, but I do, I always do.

The only thing I've learned over the years is that horrid faults and all I have to keep going, one boot in front of the other, one worry at a time, they all come in their good time, they all come, tackle them one at a time, not a life times worth at once! That would just be stupid!

Enough said. Done, and goodnight.  ¶ 12:01 AM