Jane of Grace, I have read and reread your message, and I am afraid I can come up with nothing positive about it. But you have gone from us now, risen, as it were, above the fray, leaving us here, poor creatures that we are, to toil in our miseries. Such pitiful beings who can not hear the clear pronunciations of the woman of Grace. What coupon Jane? What did you leave us, or me for I can only speak of me, that is more than soft fuzzy warm ways of saying demeaning things to me and my spirit bretheren? Ahh but you know and I don't, never have, at least That way....can not for the life of me see anyway out of here other than down deep into the heart of the misery. Is this helll? Ooooohh don't we make our own...live in out own, are are own....Oh that I can attest to....I am my own hell, knower of my own hell, builder of my own lost land of a vagrant soul that will never find the peace that has visited you, don't ever let me forget that . Come back some time and remind me, please ..... I'll still be here in this land that I created waiting to pass it off to the next poor devil like myself...to care for some more...Lost land of poor souls that have not the guts to face the fact of the one roll to salavation. So we pradle hear, each knowing the seperate path we must take, each keenly aware of the Right, each understanding our own fates yet we are damned, lost, for we can not, have not, perhaps will never, have the courage to listen to our own hearts...And we will die, our last breaths gasping...wondering what happened, why we never did what we knew was right........rather we were dead at 22 then living through this. I have torn the fiiking laundramat apart and I can find no coupon....Jane........just another pretty bauble you dangle before us?
God save us all, and you too Jane.
mnmuench |
