who went and died on her?

"the procession came to pass and the wakers left. the girl stare hard wondering where she was amidst the black huddling robes and who went and died on her without saying goodbye."

i guess somedays are crafted just solely for you alone. those days you hid under your sheets and find comfort in a sad book. not because the story is any good but because you need to air your tears. nobody came and killed your family, nobody came and steal your food, in fact nobody came to make you feel no good. but you still feel bullied, you still feel upset, you still think that the sun didnt shine as warmly on you.

"hello? wake up your idea!" get your demons out and use a samurai sword on them.. go "kacha, kacha, kacha!" and whack and whack and whack (ok... maybe a hammer or a bat will be a better weapon to go with the action... but using a sword is so much cooler). until either they die a most horrific and horrendous death- full of blood and glore squirting in beautiful 360 degrees.. splintering shards of bones, teeth and nails into non existant corners and spine-curling screams and screeches which belong to too many calafare OR... you got tired, your tears dried up, your nose- a freely flowing tap, your hands weak and your body unable to keep you a-move.

maybe then, you will realise... a sad storybook will do more good in a much faster and cleaner way. have you clean your body, empty the toxins away and make space for more good things to come?

when God comes knocking, She comes with an entourage of Louis Vuitton luggage... Do you have space for all that and Her?