anobody

Why do I try to write unpolished posts? This is a path of self-acceptance for me. A path that seeks to bypass the perfectionistic standards of this culture we find ourselves in. Stephen King (whoops, on second look, thanks to Miss Google, it’s Ernest Hemingway) does say that all writing is rewriting (Earnest H. et. al. +1964). But I suspect that the genre I am writing here – where I combine my past, present, and future – on a daily basis – comes from a different angle. Because what I am writing is of the matters of the heart.

To not edit is to love the past self who wrote it. To edit to is love perfection above the past self. Because perfection is a what, not a who.

Why do I sin? Because the heart is sick … desperately sick …

The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it? (bible.com et. al. 2022)

And so, in this sabbatical I have taken up for myself (I'm 28 out of 365 days in), I will examine, with some panache and light-headedness, this heart of mine. This is drawn from NF, as I quote …

Take my brain, put it on the floor tryna figure out my motives. (NF et. al. 2017)

On the holy masturbation front, I have finally drawn a derivation of a beautiful image of a girl (Kripa Kharel et. al. +2022) that I will mentally “marry to”. She has a singlet, and a very small cleavage line. Long, luscious locks droop down from her head, and rest on her shoulders. I gave her unrealistic eyelashes, heavier than the naturally occurring. I actually masturbated twice to her image yesterday ... so my semen is pretty spent at this point. Lube definitely helped (…). I had to bat away an image of Tara Tainton, as I imagined myself saying “no, you are not my wife” (...) and remembering she was made in the image of God (Moses et. al. -600).

She was a fellow image bearer (Moses et. al. -600) that I became very attached to in the many years of being addicted to pornography (from 12-26 – I am 26 coming to 27 at January). I have always had a preference for older women in my fantasies, and I wonder now what relation does that have with my relationship with my mother. And if this is starting to sound gross, I am somewhat aware of Freud's musings about this issue, and I need no moral lesson other than what I have already learned in the book of Deuteronomy (Moses et. al. -641).

A man is not to marry his father’s wife; he must not dishonor his father’s bed. (Moses et. al. -641)

This is a piece of the puzzle. Thanks to Jay Stringer for highlighting the possible reasons behind the desire for older women (Jay S. et. al. +2018).

Sexual desire is definitely on those things of the heart I want to keep a tight rein on. To be able to do this openly, with The Bible (I am primarily using Open English Bible and The Message, I have been most familiar with ESV and KJV pre-conversion as the son of a pastor) in hand, and my sordid self (that deserves to burn in hell, in this life or the next) in the other, is a gift of freedom to me.

Being a very new follower of the way – born again – (227 days+) from a Chinese-Malaysian background, I want to take every thought captive (...). I believe this is a piece of the puzzle (Peter et. al. 2022) to a freedom I long for. A freedom that has been growing, pico-metre by pico-metre, since 226 days ago. What a joy. Feels like white privilege XD.

And to tie it up artificially by looking at the starting ovation, I write imperfectly to remind myself that is more than okay, more than alright, to be imperfect on paper. The kind of perfection is that of the inner heart, and writing is a tool towards refining it. Writing that incorporates the word of others, my own derivations from wise sayings, and The Bible. Writing that incorporates my imperfect past, imperfect present, and the imperfect future.

Anyone angry at anobody yet? I am a heretic in the making. A heretic who doesn’t want anyone to follow him. We have enough cults in this world that cause so much pain to people. I am not here to start my own. That’s why I have the comments off. That’s why I have no interest in donations.

Just scrubbing my naked heart in front of everyone. Spiritual skinny dipping.

And don’t worry, no dick pics from me. I would not scar you fine readers with that grotesque image.

One exception to the rule of no-edit: I do want to preserve my anonymity as much as I can. Why? Because I want to speak for the faceless, the voiceless, the nameless. All the forgotten. All the fallen no one remembers.