စိတ်ထဲရှိသမျှ

It was after six, late in the evening. I looked up at the sky and noticed a wisp of cloud drifting above. The sun had set, and the moon was already out, mingling with a ghostly wisp of cloud and slipping behind it. I walked wearily back home, feeling depressed, hopeless, and confused. As I walked, I couldn’t shake the weight of my thoughts. I had to make a change in my life. I had to leave this bloody country. There was no future here. This place could end up like Syria or any number of failed states. I was down, down to the bottom of the deepest ocean. I wanted a drink.

Dear God,  Glory be to the father, and to the son and to the Holy Ghost. Let me be something every minute of every hour of my life. Let me be happy. Let me be sad. Let me be cold. Let me be warm. Let me be hungry. Let me be ragged or well dressed. Let me be sincere-be deceitful. Let me be truthful. Let me be a lair. Let me be honourable and let me be sin. Only let me be something every blessed minute. And when I sleep,