Crisis of Faith

Why write this? Why interrupt you to say this? Is this helping me or helping you? Do I or you even need help? Is there even such a thing as helping? Is there anything at all that passes between us or is triggered by this? Is this adding anything at all? 

I don’t even know what I’m writing…this is madness! I have nothing to say and yet I am saying….what, why? I am either irretrievably lost or irretrievably found; it makes no difference.

But as I calm, my breathing slows…the fact of this is very simple, very to the point. Listen; less than five minutes ago, probably less than even three minutes ago I had not the slightest trace of thought of writing this; absolutely nothing of the kind.

I just got up to wash a spoon in the sink and there it was, clear and finished. So I write this to you now, even though it is worthless, less than air. 

Crisis over. Gift sent.


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