The Dreadful Minute

I believe that life is made up of minutes. Half of the time you just live your life unaware of what will happen the next minute. Those of us who construct elaborate plans with strange calculations doodled on their organizers are all just, at best, pretending. All of us are just living by the minute.

When you're adrift like I am now, the minutes seem longer. Intensely lonely. I don't know who and what I need. You are just left alone, even in the silence of your spirit.

This dreadful minute will pass.

May God bring me succor in the next one.

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