No stealth now, however. Camped at a counter next to the window; it's warm in here and I want to feel whatever of the rain-freshened air I can. Foolishly forgot to bring a book, though I've been too fickle and attention-deficient to be a good reader anyway. My mood has been strange—constantly searching and discontent, playing the scales from sad to bitter to angry to tired without cause. The thread that ties it all together is that I am unsatisfied, though I've no full idea why.
I'm so hungry for peace that I'd settle for oblivion. That's terrifying.
Community Group will likely be small tonight. Heather, Jenae, and Jeremy are out sick at minimum. Seems something is going around. Since I don't have time or patience for it, it's probably crouching at my doorstep. No study tonight (and no interview due to Jeremy's illness), so we'll talk and pray.
So many of us are sick. Sinsick, selfsick. We vomit everywhere, on everyone. It leaves us tired and empty, and we infect every home remedy with our own disease.
But do we want to be well? Do we really?