I feel like the living dead

My head is in chaos. I have too many things that need me right now and all I want to do is run away, jump off a cliff and never land, just fall and fall forever, floating weightless with nothing to think about or worry about: no possessions, no obligations, nothing but closing my eyes and forgetting.

I don't sleep at the right times. My sleep comes in strange places. My heart is aching and I can't name it. I could but the name woulnd't be right, the words don't exist, it isn't loneliness or emptiness or bitterness, it's more of a yearning, but for something it can't find and doesn't know. In church they say there are times when dark mists rise around you. I feel lost in that mist. I don't know my place like I should. I can't accept things simply without questions. I question too much.

Why do I care about the nature of the universe, about salvation and light? My dreams disturb me. Last night I dreamt about Arabs being hacked up in an American shopping mall. Everybody was looking on and I was trying to find my husband to make sure he was safe. There is a lot of blood. The longer I live, the more I see and the more I carry it in my back and shoulders. Blood and books on anal sex and everything else that I come accross everyday that I don't want to have to see or think about, like the falic symbol being so extraodinarily prevalent all over the globe and our violent male oriented world culture feeling so inescapable. And now I'm wondering again who is God, who is he really. And who am I to God? Someody dear that is loved and cherished, or another unfortunate casualty of this world sliding slowly to my impending doom? Will the war come home to me?

I wish my husband were here. He tempers my flights of fancy and grounds me somewhat, at least when I don't make him ponder the same imponderables I struggle with for no really known reason to myself, except that I've been bred to seek salvation. I desire it as the ultimite escape from the darkness I've seen and felt.

I have work to do.