Ruminations On the Karmic Consequences of a Harvest of Sins

Weary, sluggish and silent with apathy and disinterest, I sullenly reflect and languish.... My thoughts—thick and heavy like molasses—painfully churn and swirl in and out of my head and spill against the background of dead silence of my living room.... They are in constant motion, while I sit in the living room mute and gagged and bound with the world-weariness of a lifetime and stare blankly into empty space by looking inward.... Even the furnishings around me defer to my now sullen mood. Not saying a word and bowing their heads, they hold their tongues and keep their thoughts to them- selves out of respect and deference for my silent and solemn doldrums.... The flat-panel TV, otherwise always on and hyper-gregarious, for once regards my sullenness and apathy with its own.... I sit exactly thus— alone, but in the sympathetic company of my furniture and belongings.... They whisper to me of a time when I was sinful and wanton and remind me of the need for redemption.... I remember, and take heed by repenting.... And by doing so, I have narrowly avoided reaping and gathering the terrible, karmic consequences of an unspeakable harvest of sins for myself!