Joy Flows Through me like Water

Joy flows through me like water.  Without it I would dehydrate and die within days.

On an extremely hot day, or after hours of basketball - I cannot get enough of it,  it is delicious in a bland, wet way, I cannot swallow it fast enough - but it has no taste and it has no calories.  It flows through me quickly, within minutes.  Like a compliment or praise, joy flows through me in a moment.

Conflict, criticism and doubt on the other hand, stick to my ribs like lard and fried meat, satisfyingly savory, when coupled with fatty, sweet chocolate desert, a cup of highly caffeinated, honey whole milk, Tibetan chai, bloating my being for the evening, half a week, a forte night, a decade or four.

Joy flows through me like water, the lack of Belief, a solid belief that purpose is fiction ~ Purp Fiction ~ like life, joy is fleeting, but somehow suffering constant and real amid stories of santa, satan, free market charity and the trinity.

I wish I could cross myself, absolve myself of original sin, rewire myself to absorb joy in at least equal measure with the rib sticking gristle of pain, for I'm too lucky, too blessed to be this joy thin.