Last time I titled a post Divine Humor, I got told off. That is not to say I ever thought of not putting it up, just that people I care about get offended and that I can't bear, not much anyways.
So. this time, no such title, even if the post borders on something ill-advised. What is to be said, this place has already seen me spiral into silence. How fair would that be? That I have a blog and I can't write all that I want, becuase it is not expected of me? And why? Am I not human? Do I not feel? I do and I feel, a bit too much even if all is not expressed. Where was I again? Yes, God's sense of timing and making things generally miserable for me. Of course I believe He cares for me, why else would He make sure life gets progressively unpleasant for me if He isn't looking after me. I am in a terribly tight spot, have stopped talking to family lest I say something nasty and regret it later. There is so much anger and rage bottled up and no chance of it getting out, and festering does rarely any good. So. I just want some ray of hope, some kind of light at the end of this bleak, dark, endless tunnel that is my life tehse days. Over the past one year I have requested so many to pray for me and now I wonder if I should have bothered them. It's not as if any of anyone's prayers for me are working. There. Another sign that God is watching for me, with that decided aim to deny me even the slightest good or ease to make life less unpleasant. It's like banging on closed doors till my hands bleed. Being beyond the point of caring whether the doors open or not, whether my hands heal or not. At this point, all I am left with is some half-hearted attempts at feeble knock with aching hands at doors closed shut in my face. It's not as if there's going to be any respite, as if any door would open, but it gives me something to think about other than the hopelessness and complete despondency. It's strange, hoping that their would be some respite in being utterly dejected. After all, what have I to lose?

A state of general wretchedness

“How can I deny God, when I am deep in His hell?” – Naguib Mahfouz in Miramar.

I don’t feel wretched. Resigned, abandoned, forsaken, couldn’t care a hoot. There's something to be said for such a state. You want to but can't, won't bother to care. Want to but know you can't change anything to rid the pain, the suffering that wretchedness. You could set my head on fire and the rest of me wouldn’t notice, wouldn’t bother but it would hurt like hell. There that word again. So. I am in hell, deep and let’s leave things at that.