For the last three days of December, I’ll be reflecting back on a few defining and/or favorite moments of 2012.
. . . Granted, I might could lead you to feel sorry for me. Poor me. But it would just make things uglier. Instead, I’d rather come clean. . . .
. . . And the church in the city
keeps its doors locked at night and
its hearts busy by day and
its rules binding ever tighter. . . .
. . . It’s when men’s traditions become crystallized as commandments of God we have a problem. And when we break God’s commandments to maintain men’s traditions we have an even larger problem. . . .
. . . wouldn’t i rather sleep in the open air than in a room full of smelly men even if i were one of them? i get that as much as a princess can.
but how do you stay warm at night, larry? . . . .
. . . Really, God? But this is where I’ve been for years. Where I thought I’d stay for years more.
So I walked away. . . .
. . . I blossomed into full judgment mode now.
What was this trashy woman thinking? Why was she bringing her prostitute self into a Waffle House where families were trying to eat breakfast? . . . .
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