a middle demon
Another sleeping demon awoke in the caverns of my perilous mind (The Hobbit et. al. +1937). The mind is a powerful place (NF et. al. 2019), filled with riches and dangers.
Just want to call out The Satan, I think we are all Sick of U. (BoyWithUke et. al. +2022).
Here is another bloodied event. A confession a day keeps The Doctor away (Frances E. H. et. al. +2002).
I was in the last two years of my high-school years.
I had masturbated at some time in the morning, and had got my undies soiled by my cum.
It was a class time.
I was remember the darkest moment that day. A fellow student commented “It smells like sex”. Well, it smelled like my sex. Horror gripped me, even know. I feel like choking. The teacher face froze and he said it was inappropriate, “We don’t talk about those things here”, he remarked drily (that was an approximate line, who remembers lines from the past exactly? I am the only one, perhaps).
I am losing myself tonight/today (OneRepublic et. al. +2014).
I hope this is my last confession (Laurent et. al. +2022). The Shame – The Satan – wants me dead. I don’t want to die, really, I just want some relief (NF et. al. +2019).
I even cried at my mother’s feet and in my first brother’s arms last night. I wanted to die. I wanted to get euthanized (it’s legal in my state). But I also didn’t want to break the fifth commandment (I would ). I am Christian (Luke et. al. +90), right? Christians can’t do those things, even if they wanted to. They fear The Nameless One.
Confession is like pooping. You gotta get it out before it hurts you and makes everything feel like crap.
Please, Lady Death, come and take me home to heaven. Paradise ain’t enough (). They are calling me a fucking literalist, a fucking fundamentalist. They want my fucking head! I want to die in peace! I have befriended you (Henri J. M. Nouwen et. al. 2022), haven’t I? I have signed up to cremation service already! I have written my will at twenty six years old! The love letters from home (Billy Graham et. al. 2015) ain’t fucking enough!
after a day of leaving this post to sit here …
The Love Letter is all I have. It’s much better than nothing. It helps me stay on the shore, and reminds me to not jump back into the ocean of madness again. I am a fish out of water that has learned to crawl on land. A spiritual fish that doesn’t have any gills and have been just drowning at sea.
So, the human evolution classes had a spiritual purpose. Darwin had something to do with spirituality (Phillip E. J. et. al. 2000). We are like fish without gills (and girls, if you are a lonely virgin – I feel yah bros out there – Shed A Tear (NigaHiga et. al. 2010) with me right now, if you like. We need to go on land. Rise out of pseudo-Hades into pseudo-Paradise.
… so, I am ready to die … come Lady Death and give me a firm kiss, please, as I stare into your lovely, white eyes … and my alter ego says “You are ready to live” …
I love being a dumbass …