If God wasn't the creator of the universe and everything, all-knowing and whatnot, I am certain I would confuse him very much.
Because although he has taken the punishment for every single wrong thing I have ever done, am doing and ever will do, I insist on feeling guilty and punishing myself anyway.
He has set me free, removed my chains.
And I insist upon putting them back on again. Wearing my mistakes like some sort of sick masochistic jewelry.
If God wasn't so smart, I'm sure he'd be confused.
I mean, my troubles aren't even pretty!
They aren't even sparkly or beautiful in that Romeo-and-Juliet way that sometimes happens.
I procrastinate, I get tired, I get over-emotional.
The Holding Of One's Breath
9 hours ago