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05-14-2015, 11:25 PM | #1 |
Dear Lord, Thank You.
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The Moth
A moth goes into a Podiatrist's office.
The Podiatrist says to the moth, "What's the problem, Moth?" The Moth says "Where do I start, Doc? Every day I go to work at a job I hate. I don't even know why I go. I'm awful at my job, and I think my boss just keeps me on so he can abuse me, and that seems to make him happy." The Podiatrist says, "Is that right?" The moth says, "Yeah, Doc.I just walk around in this terrible blackness. Full of depression and discontent. At night I wake up to a wife in my bed that I once loved, but she's a stranger to me. My youngest, Alexandria, she fell in the cold of that terrible winter that took so many of us last year, and my heart is crushed. My boy, Gregario, I no longer love him. When I look into his eyes, all I can see is the same cowardice that I see in my mirror every morning. If only I was more cowardly, maybe I could reach for that gun that sits on the table beside me when I drink myself to numbness each night and end this hellish facade." The Doctor is speechless. The moth says "Doc, even though I'm a moth, I sometimes I feel like a spider, just barely hanging onto my web with an everlasting fire beneath me. I feel awful." The doctor says "Moth, you are surely troubled. But you should be seeing a Psychiatrist. Why the hell did you come here?" The moth replied, "Because the light was on."
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