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06 September 2005 - 01:11

PIOJO

Carnal pleasure is so wrong. And sometimes, I'm not exactly sure why it's wrong. I get this sort of sick glee when I cut myself as punishment, when I masturbate, when I glutton up on unhealthy food, when I waste money that I know I do not have. All those things send tingles of sinful pleasure all through my scarred skin. And I loathe it. I must cleanse myself of it. But I cannot, though I try. I must try harder. Harder! Estos idiotas no ayudan en nada. But they are me, so who am I really blaming? I am hardest on myself, I know this, but if anything let it be for my eternal salvation. Who am I kidding? I'm already damned. I have been since the instance I was born. Since I had to be born. I was born of sin into a world of promiscuity and hate. Sure, there are other things in this world: love, joy... but there is also lust, greed, sloth, nasty disgusting habits I am flung with and that I most readily accept. Even though the River drains me at night. Even though I can see the souls of the dead drenched in their filth of the afterlife, waiting for the Coming of the Messiah. When they will be Judged. When I will be Judged. We're all headed in the same direction, we are. But how will we survive it? Will we even? Will I be ripped from the bossom of my mortal mother or will we be damned in the cirles of the Inferno together? How bad are her sins? How bad are mine? Does it matter? After all, they are all sins, no matter to what degree or extent. Rosa Isela's husband has killed a man. Will he go to Hell? Probably. And so will their children, for whatever sins they commit. There is no such thing as Purgatory (so why do I even capitalize it?). No "in-between" place for the masses. There is no insignificant manifestation of evil. A sin is a sin. Whether you kill a man or you kill a fly. Thou shalt not kill. It never specifies what. And what do we know of what makes a man? What separates that tiny insect from a human being? How do you know that fly is not a man? A person? Is it not a living being with a purpose (even if it is merely to annoy and buzz?)? I am tired, weary, tonight. I must sleep. Never before had I come forth like this, nor do I mean to again. It really is none of anyone's goddamn business. And there. I have just taken the Lord's name in vain. One more to the growing list. Surely tomorrow there will be countless more. For even a child can sin. Unfortunatelly, it is we as adults that teach them to. Supposed adults. I hope Jack doesn't read this, or feel my shame, but I know it is already too late. He is me, after all, and lives within me as I live inside him. After all this time, El Profeta has finally made me realize this. We are all One. Like the Holy Trinity, only we are not pure. Though we are holy. Yes, we are. From that buzzing fly down to the worst of assasins. We are all holy, for we have been created by the holiest of Forces in existance, which is the One. For I also know now that it is more than a Trinity, they are countless, endless, engery. They Are in everything that moves, that breathes, that touches, that feels. And They Are within those that don't. I don't know where I'm going with this anymore, and I don't care. I just need to sleep, rub this filth from off my soul for one night, and live my tiny death. Maybe one day, you'll understand.

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