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bringing forth

a little notebook to scribble simple thoughts, inspired devotions and deep, quiet laments in.

 

Flight of the Butterflies

Haiz, I am not feeling on top of my game, or any game for that matter.
Firstly I have no living space of my own which tremendously impedes the reading of my texts. Knowing how finicky I get with doing my assignments - from critically reading material to manually planning drafts to writing essays to editing them, I wonder how I have to make do in an occasion when everything seems so difficult?
Amongst a host of other things, I am frustrated, stressed and tired out, more mentally and emotionally than physically. The temptation of sleeping through the days, ignoring the passing of the world is considerable.
Oh Lord, when will all this end? Get me out of here. I have about had enough. I do not know exactly why all these matter to me but somehow they do. Father, where are You? I want to hear from You.

 

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