I Think Living The Blessed Life Is

The Small Seed Of Despair Cracks Open And Sends Experimental Tendrils Upward To The Fragile Skin Of Calm Holding Him Together.

Jesus But People Got Weird When They Lived Alone.

I've Never Been One To Tear The Social Fabric.

For Me Being Depressed Means You Can Spend All Day In Bed, And Still Not Get A Good Night's Rest.

I Notice When I'm On These Trips, I Read Like Mad. It's The Only Thing That Seems To Center Me, Bring Me Back To Remembering Who I Am. Or Forgetting Who I Am!