I panic easily.
God, you know how I do this, how I fret and speak in an angry to e. Sometimes I do t even mean it, but too often I do. You know I am angry so often, and how I strike out at random.
I'm sorry I was so furious today and ignored your voice telling me how foolish it was to do so. I'm sorry I ranted and held on to bitterness, picked it up where I reluctantly dropped it in the mud. Help me throw it frothier firm me this time, far where I cannot remember where it lies.
Monday, August 2, 2010
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