Quiet night
It is a quiet evening. I'm sitting in my bedroom on my own. There aren't familiar people online on MSN tonight. And so there's no chatting. The dinner is sitting warm in my growing tummy, partly because the sian-ness has taken a lot of energy out of me to go out to get some exercise. I think the previous spate of exercise spawned out of a need to expend some of the energy that comes from frustration.
But now the frustration has kind of turned into a kind of numbness, but yet from time to time it appears again.
The signs are all there. I'm just waiting.
I've been feeling helpless. Very helpless. About my own life, my loved one's lives, and about work. I have a about-to-be-homeless client who refuses the help I offer because it isn't what he thinks he deserves. Another client got knocked down by a car while pushing her stack of cardboards to sell. I can't help but wonder if part of it is my fault. And another who is about to have news broken to him of a close relative's cancer. So much is happening. But I don't know what to do.
Why, God, why?
But now the frustration has kind of turned into a kind of numbness, but yet from time to time it appears again.
The signs are all there. I'm just waiting.
I've been feeling helpless. Very helpless. About my own life, my loved one's lives, and about work. I have a about-to-be-homeless client who refuses the help I offer because it isn't what he thinks he deserves. Another client got knocked down by a car while pushing her stack of cardboards to sell. I can't help but wonder if part of it is my fault. And another who is about to have news broken to him of a close relative's cancer. So much is happening. But I don't know what to do.
Why, God, why?
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