A blinding snow-white sheet warps the mind. As much as she wishes to slice the canvas apart to enable clearer vision, fatigue is constantly on the guard to slay her down. Too much tiredness, overpowering spaces unfilled, hollow sadness. How she wants to let hopeful souls down, how she dwells on what-ifs. Neverending is the non-directional narrow path. The only detour is turning back.

What is wrong?

No. What is ever correct? The angst that souls are banished to hell for human nature, karma in Christianity, gypsies casting future in crystal balls.

I'm questioning God. I think I'm growing to be quite an atheist.