All these miles.

I am quite certain that nobody reads the words I put forth here. But hesitation remains. So I will try to write fluidly. May the possibility of your eyes not be a hindrance to the opening of my heart, or the purity of my words.

I have travelled all these miles to pose you a question. I shall first comment on my current condition: ever declining and empty of motivation and full of ideas- stagnant, stinging ideas singing melancholy and steel. I have not written in a while as complacency has befriended me yet again. Not that I am happy with the current state of affairs- either worldly or personal; but, then, don't all personal issues have a worldly weight? My life is not what I would want for anyone. They would tell me the Lord would not give you more than you take.. well, I suppose limits are meant to be tested. And even with my life not being what I would want it to be, I must consider the notion: Perhaps I wrote my life before the world began, and chose this path purposefully. To me, that would make sense. I am increasingly falling out of love with this world... I continue to loathe my dependance on the world, and become ever more aware of exactly how deep this dependance runs. So, when we finally reach the question I travelled all these miles to ask, forgive me if I seem... well, to favor one side. I do not like the way I look, but constantly look with admiration at my reflection. Ugh, even the music I once to consolation in only seems to pertube me. It has come down to a few songs that touch a fervent chord inside of me.. I close my eyes, sitting outside in the heavy night air of Indiana, the sky is clear and the stars are faint through the haze, and as I listen, I feel my heart shake my body with every forceful beat and pause. Then I feel the delay, my heart beats in jazz rhythms. My chest swells, and as I relax to breathe a face peaks through the curtain, "come with me," she says. Anyways, the question. That idea I wish you to consider. The one all my years have led me to bring to your doorstep. That is why I am here, or perhaps I am here to answer it. Dilemmas abound like mosquitos in a rain-heavy season: buzzing and biting, nagging and annoying.
Why do we work for money when the Lord is certainly capable of providing, willing to provide for your needs?
This is yours to consider. Know that you are not alone if this causes you worry or concern, I am mired in its web. entangled never to return. The spider awaits, savors its prey, but alas, I clipped my wings by my words, and can fly no more.