A fallen world.

I wish I were a better artist so I could express my feelings in a median other than writing. I'm a terrible artist, I can barely draw a stick figure. My writing's not much better, but it's all I've got.

I say this because I have an image in my head of Abortion. Not a technical view of the abortion procedure, but more what the reality triggers within me. It's frustrating being unable to express.

I'm musical, but a cacophony of sounds is hardly a viable outlet. Besides, everything I've ever written has been in C major, and abortion is most definitely a minor muse.

Then there's poetry. Mine's laughable at best.

So we're stuck with this. Whatever this may be. I apologize for my awkward sentence structure and overuse of parenthesis. I'm sure editing my posts would help immensely. Of course, that would require reading what I write, something I never do. I rarely revise anything and, consequently, my writing is a bit rough.

Abortion. Termination. Unwanted. Choice.

Defend to the death a woman's right to choose to kill her offspring. Child is too emotional.

I'm too emotional.

It's hard to be stoic about death. Ayn Rand was wrong, it is more than possible to care. To weep. It's not about control. I don't want to control anyone, I just want the killing to end. Society is a mess, bigoted and misguided, but we all know it's wrong. We would jump in front of a dog being slaughtered by a flippant teenager, yet care not when our own children and grandchildren are ripped apart.

Overdramatic. Realistic.

Jesus is coming. I pray that it is soon.