I might just be happy for wherever...

ear God, in heaven what ever happened to all men supposedly being equal in your all seeing eyes? I mean you could've warned me about the accident. You know, a simple "Look out Steven old friend," would've done the trick, and made me turn my head, just in time to make a neat side step out of harms way. But oh no, you didn't did you. Instead you let it happen to me. Probably watched the steel girder slip from the crane harness, listened to my scream as it cut me a third lower. And now here I sit, like a minefield survivor, with quivering stumps to stare at. Have you any idea how much pain I'm in? Do you even care a damn? Well, it's a good job, I'm friendly with the porter on night meds. Of course the purple note helped double my dose of drugs. Being high feels right, and I know I deserve it God. Just don't want to become a junkie, like I already am, if that makes sense. No more sitting in the full lotus position, whilst encouraging my students to study the art of breathing, All of them calm and oblivious, just as I myself once was barely a fortnight ago. Now it seems such a worthless preparation, for how will it prevent whatever terrible fates await them? God, will you listen to their prayers, and tip these test crash dummies before the death hammer strikes, I wonder? Like you did when I nearly got married to her remember? And I thought you were supposed to promote the sacred act of matrimony up until you bellowed out your "man eater" lecture, following my wake from the praying mantis nightmare. You might understand how I have great doubts about you even being in up there, and even further doubts about how I thought I'd found you to begin with.

Well, I've just busted my colostomy stitches again. It seems my dignity's a joke since the doctors ripped me a new arsehole. So once again as I endure new levels of unwanted, pain, I grit my teeth, and ask myself once again, where are you? Yes you God, during my hour of greatest need? Is it all because you feel you have a more important agenda. A list of high priority cases, perhaps? And if this be so, then does this rightfully warrant your ignorance to my anguished cries? I mean let's face it God you've hardly ever answered a single prayer since...well you know that thing I did last summer at the vegetarian Christian barbeque. So then, are you in effect saying that all my prayers now fall on empty ears. Perhaps indeed, my problems simply appear petty in the great scheme of things? Or is it simply a fact that my good karma credit has finally expired? Just tell me the cold hard truth; I can deal with it, even in this bloody wheelchair with only half my legs. Just no more bad karma please if you really are a friend on high. You know God; sometimes I realize I only ever wanted a friend in this life. And I'm still searching for one to this day. And God, I suppose that's why if I'd have had a choice as egg and sperm, I would never have asked to be been born into this world. But hey too late, and who would want to be a cripple? Let's face it, not even a dead man. Oh well God, I'll just have to see it through, until tomorrow. Any how, as long as you're alright Jack, that's the main thing isn't it. Got to be ahead of your game even high up there, I suppose. Number one, top man, nice going mate, hold on tight to that holy throne. I'll be okay in mine down here. Not that anyone wants to throw me off it hey. Ha, ha.

Anyway God, now I'm well and truly buzzing from my upped dose, and the pain is temporarily masked, I feel I must report this sudden turn for the better, but at least I've got myself a young blonde nurse to push me around, and put up with my moans every time the chair wheel hits an acorn on the path. She's got a seriously sexy smile which she wears for me every day. Well at least I know the third leg is still functional and ready for action. Otherwise I reckon I would've taken out what was left of me with a lethal overdose. Yes, thank you nurse Sarah, thank you so very much for that glimpse of cleavage, and black stocking tops. Hey God, maybe she's into dating cripples. If not, then could you possibly fix it for me? Go on God, just this one, please. If you really are a friend. To tell you the truth she's the only reason I've written to you. So speak to me soon. Or else ear God, in heaven what ever happened to all men supposedly being equal in your all seeing eyes? I mean you could've warned me about the accident. You know, a simple "Look out Steven old friend," would've done the trick, and made me turn my head, just in time to make a neat side step out of harms way. But oh no, you didn't did you. Instead you let it happen to me. Probably watched the steel girder slip from the crane harness, listened to my scream as it cut me a third lower. And now here I sit, like a minefield survivor, with quivering stumps to stare at. Have you any idea how much pain I'm in? Do you even care a damn? Well, it's a good job, I'm friendly with the porter on night meds. Of course the purple note helped double my dose of drugs. Being high feels right, and I know I deserve it God. Just don't want to become a junkie, like I already am, if that makes sense. No more sitting in the full lotus position, whilst encouraging my students to study the art of breathing, All of them calm and oblivious, just as I myself once was barely a fortnight ago. Now it seems such a worthless preparation, for how will it prevent whatever terrible fates await them? God, will you listen to their prayers, and tip these test crash dummies before the death hammer strikes, I wonder? Like you did when I nearly got married to her remember? And I thought you were supposed to promote the sacred act of matrimony up until you bellowed out your "man eater" lecture, following my wake from the praying mantis nightmare. You might understand how I have great doubts about you even being in up there, and even further doubts about how I thought I'd found you to begin with.

Well, I've just busted my colostomy stitches again. It seems my dignity's a joke since the doctors ripped me a new arsehole. So once again as I endure new levels of unwanted, pain, I grit my teeth, and ask myself once again, where are you? Yes you God, during my hour of greatest need? Is it all because you feel you have a more important agenda. A list of high priority cases, perhaps? And if this be so, then does this rightfully warrant your ignorance to my anguished cries? I mean let's face it God you've hardly ever answered a single prayer since...well you know that thing I did last summer at the vegetarian Christian barbeque. So then, are you in effect saying that all my prayers now fall on empty ears. Perhaps indeed, my problems simply appear petty in the great scheme of things? Or is it simply a fact that my good karma credit has finally expired? Just tell me the cold hard truth; I can deal with it, even in this bloody wheelchair with only half my legs. Just no more bad karma please if you really are a friend on high. You know God; sometimes I realize I only ever wanted a friend in this life. And I'm still searching for one to this day. And God, I suppose that's why if I'd have had a choice as egg and sperm, I would never have asked to be been born into this world. But hey too late, and who would want to be a cripple? Let's face it, not even a dead man. Oh well God, I'll just have to see it through, until tomorrow. Any how, as long as you're alright Jack, that's the main thing isn't it. Got to be ahead of your game even high up there, I suppose. Number one, top man, nice going mate, hold on tight to that holy throne. I'll be okay in mine down here. Not that anyone wants to throw me off it hey. Ha, ha.

Anyway God, now I'm well and truly buzzing from my upped dose, and the pain is temporarily masked, I feel I must report this sudden turn for the better, but at least I've got myself a young blonde nurse to push me around, and put up with my moans every time the chair wheel hits an acorn on the path. She's got a seriously sexy smile which she wears for me every day. Well at least I know the third leg is still functional and ready for action. Otherwise I reckon I would've taken out what was left of me with a lethal overdose. Yes, thank you nurse Sarah, thank you so very much for that glimpse of cleavage, and black stocking tops. Hey God, maybe she's into dating cripples. If not, then could you possibly fix it for me? Go on God, just this one, please. If you really are a friend. To tell you the truth she's the only reason I've written to you. So speak to me soon. Or else I might just be happy for wherever the devil may take me..