Sometimes I wake up in the morning in a good condition. Other times, it is as though I've gone to bed with my mind like a perfectly assembled lego castle with turrets and princesses waving from the windows, but there has been an explosion overnight, and, in the morning, my mind is no longer a castle; in fact, it's been shattered into a thousand individual lego pieces that are scattered everywhere. I pad to the kitchen to put the kettle on, ouching all the way as I tread on the lego bricks, before realising that those lego bricks are the fragments of my own mind.
What does a person do, then?
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'God, please direct my thinking.'
God then reassmbles me.