I think I am plugged into my future, but, if not God, then nothing. Plugged into nothing. Tracing the cord back to the wall, finding nothing –Blink 182. Flustered and frustrated. I am writing from a table that’s currently uneven, but what does that even matter? People chatter in the background. Wait for their drinks. Drink. And leave.

I am busy doing, if not for God, nothing. How is this possible? To be overwhelmed for nothing. To create something for nothing. Stress, that’s what were really good at. Worry, finding an excuse to be afraid, then stoking it. Busy for what? Striving for–death. Life, like a merry-go-round. We get on, go around, and get off. –Cake.

We struggle to create constructively, but, being naturally bent on death–destructiveness. In a way, making some of our own diseases and malady. Finding sickness when we should pursue health, unduly. Finding everything wrong, so gourmand can dwell on the negative, your shoulders can sulk, hands awkwardly sitting so never resting in their place, not a search that takes long.

We’re out of here. how are we honestly at war with anyone? So, we want to hang onto this life more than we want to take hold of the next.

[When God is our life’s priority

we’re never on the wrong path.]

[You’re never on the wrong path.]

[When God is your priority

You’re never on the wrong path.]