The_Good_Reads_01

10 Then the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which will be to all people. 11 For there is born to you this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. 12 And this will be the sign to you: You will find a Babe wrapped in swaddling cloths, lying in a [a]manger.”
          
          Luke 2:10-12
          
          https://youtu.be/4KiFSKLTj0U?si=hCgsOwjWciJblmnt
          

When is your next update?

Psalms Ch.23 verse 1-6 (NKJV) 
          
          23 The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
          
          2 He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
          
          3 He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
          
          4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
          
          5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
          
          6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.
          
          

Being irrelevant is the worst fear you can have. Yet we all have it. 
          
          When we are kids, we form friendships that we believe will last a lifetime, last forever. We feel needed. We feel important to someone other than our parents. 
          
          Irrelevant is how you feel when ten years later someone mentions you and that same childhood best friend ask "Who?" 
          
          The sharp pain of a cracking heart fills every fiber of your being. The thoughts of if you were ever as important in their life as they were in yours start running circles around your head. Question if everything you ever said or did together was that irrelevant, that forgetful and worthless. 
          
          Am I as irrelevant then as I am now?
          
          I dont understand. How can they just...forget? Just toss it aside. Never think back on those years. 
          
          Never mention them.
          
          Do they?
          
          Do they recount those memories of those times with their new friends? 
          
          Do they laugh with nestolga?
          
          Have they truly forgotten, or do they just not care?
          
          Which one would hurt worse?
          
          I dont want to know. I just want it to stop. The ach that feels my chest when I see them. The smack across the face when they smile without care, happy with their-selfs, with their lives. The shove in the chest when their eyes land on you but they don't see you.
          
          Your a stranger. 
          
          An old face that stirs old memeoris.
          
          But I see those memeoris every day, clear as crystal. I remember. I share them with people despite the burning it causes in my chest. I'm still willing to do anything for them, give them anything they want if they ask.
          
          Why can't they just acknowledge the past?
          
          Why.
          
          Why is all I want to know.
          
          Why and how. 
          
          How can they just let it go like it was just nothing to them?

I found it.

Also I lost my laptop charger again...

Hey guys, you probably got a notification saying that a new chapter we up but unfortunately that is not correct. I hit publish instead of save but I am almost done with the next chapter. Thanks for your patience and apologies for the confusion.
          God bless Ya'll 

Happy Easter! 
          
          John 11:25-26. Jesus said to her, "I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die."
          
          

John 3:16-17
          "For God so loved the world that He gave His begotten Son, that whosoever beliveth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved."

Pain. Im in so much pain.
          They say your supposed to write with your pain, but my pain has no words.
          Just chocked sobbs and muffled tears in a sweatshirt. They say pain and trauma make for good authors. But I don't feel like much of anything right now. I just don't understand where I went wrong. I don't understand why I can do nothing right. 
          I feel as if pain is so much more than descriptive words. 
          How can someone explain the feeling of drowning in salty tears as the heart is ripped by uncontrolled emotions. How can you describe the dispare of wanting someone to understand? 
          Write your pain.
          Paint your emotions.
          But what if I can't write the pain that tears at me?
          What if my emotions are to chaotic to paint? What if they are to dark to make sense of?
          What if the pain never goes away?