Sunday, March 1, 2015

Thought sequence.

I'm standing in the saddle shop leaning against the door frame drinking milk, which is rare for me, and thinking. My thoughts keep shifting back and forth between life decisions and the God-sent horses I can see through the glass. The skin on my fingers is cold and I'm trembling but my mind is red hot. What if I move far away and for hell's sake I can't focus. I remember the smell of his leather jacket and feeling so safe. I'm afraid I'll never feel that way again. I wonder how hard the wind is blowing at sissy's place. My room up in Wyo sounds pretty good right now. And hot coffee - the kind that scalds on the way down. Maybe one day I'll have a fancy indoor arena with lights and heaters so I can ride clear into the night. George Strait sings some great songs. I don't ever want to be weak. I wish I could be straightforward with people and just be myself. My bible pages are being ground by the arena dirt that's shook off my clothing and there's smeared blood from old cuts. Praise God.
Hebrews 13:5 Never will I leave you, never will I forsake you.
Psalm 23:4 Even though I walk in the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil, for You are with me; your rod and staff, they comfort me.
Goodnight dolls. Sweet dreams.

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