Savage

I am not well. No illness racks my body, but there is a pervasive sense of unease that I can't escape, or admit to. The changing of the season approaches, and I still have no home. Still, I live in the moment, and one nice moment seems to compensate for the hundreds of moments before and after of various levels of anguish. And I do have faith. I follow no creed except my own, but it's been influenced by so much in the world that has been good, that I can endure so much that is bad. As I write that sentence, a suicidal thought enters my brain, which I ignore as best I can, though not before it opens up other thoughts, none of them hopeful. However, once I write this, I will be outside, and the evening sun will lightly touch me, and that moment will be very good indeed. My main focus is getting people to read what I write. I sent a link to 17 contacts, and I got 4 views out of it, which is discouraging. Whoever read my post, it seems as if 3 peoplle read one post, and one of them read another, and that was it. If my writing sucked, I would understand, but I feel it's quite good. So how do I raise awareness of my screaming in the wilderness? It's something that vexes me, because the only other choice is to stop and roll up in a little ball, and whimper in a secluded corner somewhere. That doesn't sound like much fun. Maybe if I offered prizes. No one could ever win, but just the offer could be enough to make people want to wade through my raging stream of consciousness. What would Jesus do? What would the Donald do? Jesus would persevere, and so would the Donald; therefore I shall too. There must be a balm to endure the pain/ and the sun will come to dry up the rain./ And I shall rise to suffer once again./ To live through that brings me so much joy./ I can't get much happier; the world's a toy/ that others take away and destroy./ So I must run until I run no more./ I will play the game but I won't keep score./ Something must be done that no one can ignore./ I'll keep thinking but I'll never understand/ the wonders that I hold in my hands./ I need so much but I make no demands./ One day I'll scream all I know/ but all that will be heard is the echo./ Despite my situation, I still have ambition, but only because I love the world. God will punish the whole world for my poverty, so though I don't care about money, I must attain a great deal of it for the sake of humanity, and all the other creatures much more deserving of His grace. When I do have millions, I think I will still sleep in the street. There's a comfort there that can be found nowhere else.