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Moody

Not enough

Somewhere along the way this morning, the 43 bus turned into Mr. Toad's Wild Ride. My stomach was not a fan and is still recovering.

Is it too clichéd to say I need rest? I think that's what I need, anyway—I feel jumbled enough that I'm not even sure. Rest and salvation. I need to be saved, even though I'm not entirely sure from what. Just a weight, a busyness, and a scatteredness that doesn't let up. And I need to be saved from myself, because I don't rest when I can, try to give attention to too many things, and think I can do and be more than is realistic. Let there be no doubt: I am not enough.

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