“We are born, we live, we die. Not necessarily in that order.”
Grey’s Anatomy makes me cry.
I don’t like hospitals. Although it doesn’t scare me as much anymore, compared to when I was younger, its still unpleasant. I prayed.
I’ve been praying a little more of late, something I haven’t done in a long time.
Sometimes, its not that I doubt, its more like I can’t take my own lack of a stand. Its like, if I can’t make up my mind about it and be steadfast, and be true, then its the same as me not being so, and that’s the other side, isn’t it. Its black & white, but I’m in the grey zone, and its not white, and I can’t live with hypocrisy. And at the same time, I just need to reach out for something, because I do believe.
I feel as if I’m stored up with things to say. But the fact that I’ve kept in it for so long, my emotions have died a little, and I no longer want to tell anyone anything. Maybe no one wants to listen, and I no longer know how to articulate, and I no longer dare to say a peep.