There are No Words

I lied. Of course there are words; otherwise there would be no entry.

My mood has been melodramatic, at best. It's more on the indescribable side; I feel like a painter who was just asked to explain her abstract drawing. Maybe that is not art on the canvas, but rather, mere splotches and drips of paint orchestrated by the irascible paintbrush.

Maybe this issue of altering what is deeply engraved in me takes more than I can manage. Maybe not, but there's no discounting that possibility.

I don't want to see the world as conspiring against me, because it's akin to having little to no faith in His Plans.

For now, it's time to try controlling what can be controlled. Hmph.

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