Bleh . . . Life:

Said with disdain.

Friday, I went to the gallery wallk, art galore. Where inspiration flooded me like the pouring torrents of rain. So much that my only desire was to be locked away in a dark room where there was only me and art. HA. Then my nemesis with his lies and deceit entered the scene. 'Mediocrity' he says, 'Nothing more than in the middle, not quite good and not quite ****.' My good humor fell, my inspiration lay dead in a pool of its own blood. My work, across the room and on the floor, awaiting her demise. 'To hell with it all' I want to cry.

I blame God instead. If it weren't for Him I would have never met religion. Who with her wicked ways converted a once furiously beating heart into a lifeless mechanation reliant on others to crank its gears. If not for a faith corrupted I could choose. No longer would I fear the difference between right and wrong, but simply live. Instead my days are heavy laden with frustration over matters of obedience and holiness. My every thought or decision called to question over the miniscule and minority. My veil of faith, lifted, I live and see with eyes unhindered. My dearest truth now nothing more than an annoying set of rules. I'd give anything for the blessed cover to be restored, but instead I lay in mourning over life, long passed.

* * *
(Hoorah for Asteri!)
Heaping coals on an already blazing inferno of depression, I just check the figures for London. $6050.00 US dollars. I have $1050.00. It is officially in the hands of God (and our relationship is perpetually on the rocks). I want to get some beer and rent a movie, but I have a dinner party and French to study!

Luv,
Clay