I wonder if I have a soul —
You tell me that I must;
For who would care to question
If they did not care first?
But the more I try to think of it,
The more it hurts my brain;
For what if all the things I feel
Amount to only phantom pain?
"When I am writing, I am trying to find out who I am…" –Maya Angelou
I wonder if I have a soul —
You tell me that I must;
For who would care to question
If they did not care first?
But the more I try to think of it,
The more it hurts my brain;
For what if all the things I feel
Amount to only phantom pain?
Perhaps it’s the soul that feels the phantom pain?
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Or the phantom pain is where the soul used to be. Heh. Guess I’ve been feeling a little “glass half empty.” Thanks for the half full, though.
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Me, as well. I related to the poem.
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Ahh. Sorry.
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I know you’re absent from here for a while – hope you are well.
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I’m alright, mostly. It’s just, there’s some stuff going on. And I don’t always (read: never) feel like I’m doing or even feeling as much as I should.
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Thanks for writing back Rachel – you can delete my comment/question if you want … the tenor of your last few posts plus saying you might be gone for a little while had me concerned. Take care of yourself … please.
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Delete? Nonsense! Your concern is greatly appreciated, Linda. Thank you, and… I’ll try.
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OK, that’s fine – I thought if you thought it was too personal, to go ahead. Take care Rachel please.
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