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This flesh

This flesh makes me so selfish. I can feel it tugging and wanting it’s way. They say my only recourse is to pray. It’s always inching towards it’s doom holding hands with time and writing letters to the tomb but it won’t cease one second till it’s rotting and resting, Something always clicking turning and manifesting. I refresh, then I tire, flip over repeat. A big pile of mess squashed in flesh meat. I feel it tugging wanting it’s way.

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About BethLanning

Im a scatterbrained dingbat but I have Ninja potential. This site is to catch all my scatterbrain in one place so it will be a pile of different things. The more I write the more I learn about the different piles of myself. I once thought it was all a ball of confusion and mess but I now see distinct areas taking shape. My Writing, Cooking and Food, Art, Poetry, Fitness Life, Projects, Learning to Organize, Personal Growth and its really a catch all and you never know what you'll get but isn't that just the way life is? See my other site for me and my husbands journey to build a Tiny hOme!

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