Remember?

Remember?
Remember what was spoken on the mountaintop? Barely.
I feel like a washout. The signs are all there – and I, kinda, know I'm getting affected, but the lack of will to face up to it isn't there. I've barely been impacted – there's no excuse to being affected.
I can't even get over myself to write a story that I believe needs to be written.

Tell Juleen. Take tomorrow to sort this out together.
I don't want to – to tell Juleen that I can't deliver, again; and I don't really want to sort this out cos I'm afraid.

Tell Marietjie. It'll help you feel better.
I don't want to either.

And another voice tells me to suck it up and write that story.
Which is Your voice, God?
If the Spirit intercedes for me in groanings, it's what I need now. Because I dont even know where to begin telling anyone how and what I'm feeling.