I do think there's a god,
But sometimes I wonder. Why?
Why would he allow sin to exist
Why do we have to live an entire life of suffering
Before we finally see him on the other side?
Some people say we chose this life, and it was our free will that caused it.
But does that mean there's still sin in heaven?
Or is there no free will?
If it's the latter we could've just skipped this step
And if it's the former is heaven really a place worth going?
I don't mean to sound pessimistic about it but
I just want to understand.
Is this the curse of the tree of knowledge?
Obviously sin doesn't exist in heaven.
Sin can't exist in God's presence.
So that means our ability to sin is gone.
So why did it have to be there from the start?
All free will does is let me make bad choices.
It lets me ruin my life.
Maybe I'll ask him tonight, if I'm brave enough

I got everything I ever wanted.
A stable job where they all seem to care.
I married the girl I've loved since high school.
So when does this whole happiness thing start?

I spent about four hundred on Amazon yesterday

Just some stuff I've been wanting for a while

That's a whole car payment

It's probably okay

But a question keeps popping into my head

Will I still have any of it a year from now?

My addiction to **** haunts me daily
Moreso haunts my wife, actually
Can't get it up for her when she finally wants me
Cause I ****** it just a few hours before
It's sad what I'm doing to her
But society deems it "normal" and "healthy"
Only ones who'll even admit it's bad are the religious types
Are we so anti God we have to say it's good just because some priest says otherwise?
If it doesn't endanger our comfort it's okay
I'm tired of hearing it
Sometimes I wish we never invented farming

I thought I prepared myself this time
Convinced I could lower my guard
I let down my walls for just a second
I let them kick me while I'm down
But it's winter
And I always forget
It hurts much worse in the cold

I know it's all I write about
But I just miss being a kid
I'd love to not have any problems
But I wouldn't want to put my mom through that again

Sitting on the floor in the middle of the room
I scrape my hand on the inside of the bowl
And shovel gruel into my mouth.
Starving, I scoop another handful down my gullet.
Something wet lands in my lap
I look down and see my stomach burst open, slop spilling out.
A crowded room and no one notices.
I stop eating to catch my breath
Their heads all whip to my direction
Eyes locking on me.
My stomach growls
I scoop another handful.
Everyone goes back to what they were doing.
It's probably better this way.