For the last couple of days, I’ve been waking up with this looming sense of forebode, some unfathomable darkness lurking over my shoulder. And I know why, or at least I think I do.
I feel like the weight of all my little sins, my deceptions have been wafting under the veil of indifference, and now they’re condensing, once those clouds darken enough, there’ll be no ark to save me and no olive branch to truce my immediate world with.
Somehow not much is there in the way of redemption, or understanding– I’ve lied and cheated and made a mess in my scrounge for ground, for footing.
I fear all the seeds of my squanderings have withstood the proverbial weeding of karma… I’m not sure I will. There’s no worse sin than anticipating your own reprieve.