I am tired and too delicate for this world.
It all seems to fly at me at once today, an assault of worldly concerns and it feels like just too much and I whisper for Jesus to come and come soon and all the while I feel like a hopeless lunatic just waving my arms as the merry-go-round spins.
Let me get off. I want the ride to be over.
...
Continued here over at Emily's place for Imperfect Prose. Join us?
