(no subject)
Bitch, bitch, bitch. Moan, moan, moan.
It seems like nothing satisfies that psychological need for piety among christians like me better than a lament about life. Heartfelt, perhaps, but equally misguided. But we are young. We are supposed to be misguided and heartfelt. Sounds like a song. Maybe I will write it. I am in that sort of mood that wants to look up some meaningful but mysterious line of poetry and post it, so I will cut this short. But before I go I will strain to say that life seems pleasant once again, and of all people in this world, it seems I possess those things that should make one happy.
It seems like nothing satisfies that psychological need for piety among christians like me better than a lament about life. Heartfelt, perhaps, but equally misguided. But we are young. We are supposed to be misguided and heartfelt. Sounds like a song. Maybe I will write it. I am in that sort of mood that wants to look up some meaningful but mysterious line of poetry and post it, so I will cut this short. But before I go I will strain to say that life seems pleasant once again, and of all people in this world, it seems I possess those things that should make one happy.