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brass buttons on your coat hold the cold

12 Feb

Before I went to bed last night, I thought about how this weekend already feels different from the last few. I wouldn’t mind staying in with Danny. I don’t need to chase intoxication. I’m fine.

Then, I fell asleep and dreamt about taking shots with some random people from high school. I loved the feeling. I wanted to drink more.

There is a battle inside of me, and I think I hope the good side wins.

I don’t feel like seeing God tonight. I don’t want to go to church and feel small, quiet, and worthless like I usually do when I go. But I probably should push through that, and go anyway. It’s hard to explain what it’s like for me to go to church. I mean, I love hearing from God, but maybe the stuff going on outside my heart, the people around me, everyone else, the outside, maybe that starts to seep in, and everything that God says to me starts to matter less, because on the outside, I don’t feel well at all. At the end of the night, I’m in such a bad mood, that I’d wish I hadn’t gone at all. Not unless I went out and redeemed myself to myself afterward. But that rarely happens anyway.

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