I am so lonely
And so tired
I think I’ve become a flattened patch of clovers with those little tiny white flowers (petals reminiscent of narrowly-cupped fingers).
I think I’ve given up.
Pure Love for sale–what could that even mean??
Pure Love for free–where would that even mean??
God’s Love for sale–doesn’t that seem a devilish lowdown evil trick?
God’s Love for free–but why would we have to give it to you? Doesn’t God already give it away for free?
I am so lonely and tired, like a small baby too abandoned to even whimper anymore.
But that’s a cruel analogy. Since babies do still sometimes get left on rocks to die, their subsistence-roaming parents regretfully unable to provide.
I am so lonely and tired, like a small wet dog lost from its family, out in the rain, finding a broken-up old glazed-ceramic drain pipe to shelter in, and, soggily and hopelessly exhausted, falling asleep all alone.
I am so lonely and tired, like the last twinkling star in the night’s sky, about to die with the rest but not yet dead and therefore infinitely alone.
I guess I should take a nap
We’re keeping track of all these posts here: The Logbook. Maybe it can be a words-only comic strip of our Pure Love moguling.
If you sign up for the mailing list, you’ll get a weekly update about our activities–including this logbook.
We will use your email only to keep you updated about our hijinks.
This Logbook becomes a chapter book at Logbook of a Pure Love Mogul: Chapters
Author: Bartleby Willard
Editor: Amble Whistletown
Copyright: AM Watson