Tags » Bathsheba
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This is about finding hope in unexpected places.
I often come home on Sundays thinking how terrible my message was, how I’m not a very good speaker, how I should quit and mow lawns for a living. 739 more words
I feel like a weakling struggling to write; fidgety and barely able to hold up a pen. Very much like a character in The Count Of Monte Christo who was cast in a dark dungeon and starved for years – unkempt, reeking of neglect, and now cringing and groping at first reacquaintance with light, fumbling my way back to the real world after serving a severe self-sentencing. 996 more words