my life is a field where good things like turnips and celery should grow (thank my brain’s random selection of vegetables) where a lot of silly things grow like petunias (which die out fast in heat or cold) and a lot more weeds than i’d like. some weeds are thorny, some have little flowers, but they’re still weeds. now in the past couple months someone or something (i think situations in the form of a giant hand with a rake) has been digging up all the few vegetables (which die and are slow to grow back) and smashing the flowers (which spring back quickly) and hacking at the weeds (which are very hard to kill). deep furrows are dug. potholes are formed. the dirt, the foundation of all these plants, is overturned. they can still grow, but their sweet little rows have ceased. this weekend, the rake and the hand decided to chop and hack and hit the tender spots. i feel like my normality is out of place and my emotions are raw and my mind is spinning.yet some reason, i have peace. maybe its because i know that somehow, some of the goods plants are still growing.

and god brings rain.

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