Shit Happens: A Lament

Shit happens, but I don't know why. I wish I had some wonderfully UN approach to this Book of Job phenomenon, but I am drained of most of my compassion and choose to focus selfishly on myself, as I usually and pathetically do.

I don't understand why bad things happen to my good family, why we have no money, why my dad keeps getting sued.

I don't understand why I can't be happy in one place, why I want to get away from everywhere at once so badly.

I don't understand why I fail to communicate with those closest to me and have woven an intricate web of lies to protect myself.

I don't understand why I don't like tomatoes.

I don't understand why I thrive on emotional pain and let the people who caused it back into my life so freely.

I don't understand why I can't stand up to my friends when I need to.

I don't understand why I have let my heart become so callous to the tragedy in my family.

I don't understand why I feel that a relationship with a stable guy will solve all my problems.

I don't understand why I'm so scared of my writing.

I don't understand why my face still breaks out like a 15 year old when I wash it twice daily.

I don't know why I'm so cynical about Christianity.

I don't understand why it takes me so long to open up to people.

I don't understand why I thrive on my vices.

I don't understand why I'm a feminist sometimes, especially since I care so much about what guys think of me.

I don't understand why I feel it is so necessary to put on a show for people, to protect whatever reputation I have.

I don't understand why people trust and respect me sometimes, I want to shake them and scream, "Are you kidding me?? Run, run far away!!"

I don't understand why I can't be like everyone else in Torrey and why it's so hard for me.

I don't understand why I don't rely on God.