And I lie lounging here… bubbling a vague sense of happiness <– (that sentence amuses me so I will allow its presence).
.. as my mind is conjuring a labyrinth answer *AHEM* the question I was going to propose: why does a sense of guilt skitter around after real happiness?
Not guilty pleasures here, (though I do spy a lonesome hunk of dark chocolate- sitting in plain sight – the nerve!)
I suppose it’s the wily old prowler trying to undo grace, shoving our unworthiness up our noses.
Yes, “I own I’m guilty, own I’m vile, yet Thy salvation’s free!” (respect to this page)
and a pretty picture to please your pupils: