just some things

Be merciful to me, Lord, for I am in distress; my eyes grow weak with sorrow, my soul and body with grief. My life is consumed by anguish and my years by groaning; my strength fails because of my affliction, and my bones grow weak.

I recall distinctly how I enjoyed my suffering.

I confess that I prepared this talk in a very grumpy mood, so there's some grumpy stuff in here. I'm just warning you about it in advance. So don't come out and say 'That was grumpy.' 'Cause I'm self-aware.

I'm turning to dust from boredom.

Now and then I prayed to God, in whom I did not believe, not to let this happen. I didn't believe in God, but I had prayed to him as a young boy, and doing it now was as if my childlike hope had returned.

Ye weep, unhappy ones, but these are not your last tears!