Shortage of Miracles, Please Re-order at Another Date.
Saint Louise Was Listening On
2:30 a.m. || 2004-05-31
Yes I am Blind, but I do see
Evil People prosper over the likes of You and Me Always
Ate cake, sat here most of the night doing the new layout. And now I am at last alone again with my sorrows and nothing to occupy the empty space in my mind.
Walgreens today saw me filling a prescription for Provera, and when I said "I'm not looking forward to how much this will hurt, I have dysmenorreah." The pharmacist says "Well, you know, having children will knock that out of you."
And cried all the way to the checkout line, no matter how quietly, how much to myself, how little it really all seems to some people.
How little it means to some people.
But I am resolute in my wants,
and still not given to fancy.
I can pray until I have rugburn and sweat blood at the foot of my couch, like my own fucking private Gethsemane, and really?
There are no miracles happening here.
Not for me.