These past 5 days have been dreadful. I feel locked in time. Like I am reliving a bad day over and over again. I pray every night to Ganesh--the elephant boy-man-God's son. I keep all the important people in my prayers. Yet, I wake up everyday--nothing changes. Is this what being a zombie means? Is this all a joke, a bad joke the butt of which is me? I am not sure if I ever saw myself as a joke. I am not sure if I even have a funny bone in my body. Maybe just the femur. I feel someone up there has decided to play around with me--a rogue angel's pet is what I think I am now. He gives me moments of joy and then moments of extreme angst. He gives and then takes all that he gives. So I could be working my heart out in something I love but angel forbid I get to keep the rewards of what I worked for with absolute integrity. I don't want to be that who gets whatever she puts her hand to quite like Mr. Midas. But like this mythical creature, my rewards are mythical, missing in real time. I feel like I am reconstructing my whole life every three years like starting from scratch. I have done it but scratching my head all the while at the turn of life, yet again. I see everything I desired and worked for just come to naught. How or why does this happen? I have been told not to analyze. It has happened for whatever reason. But this is not good enough an explanation for me. I need to know what I could have done differently in order to not repeat the situation (frankly I don't think I made mistakes that result in such disproportionate results). I can't go to someone to tell me what is wrong in my stars. How does anyone know? Yet lack of such knowledge doesn't stop a conclusion. No amount of disbelief and denial is going to remove that reality away. Now I live in the fear that any good that will come in this cycle of good and bad is going to come back with a vengeance destroying all the bad instantly. But I am desperate for the good in this moment for living this bad has destroyed the tissues in my head and my vagina. I have stored so much bad energy, angst in my guts that my head is reeling from the onslaught. What else can I do? Who do I go to plead my case? Who is listening? Who is listening to me in order to change my life for the better? I am caught in this fish net of life, wanting to break free and cutting myself over and over again in between its threads. I hope still. For there is nothing else a live person can do living in the bowels of stillness.