The All Singing, All Dancing Crap

I was thinking earlier this evening that among my few close friends, shreds of secrets are scattered about like so much taco filling. If I were to die tomorrow, I imagine they would come together at my wake & discuss the fragments, making a giant taco of my life. They would be shocked, amused, they would stare at each other & laugh. And I imagine certain of my friends, with whom I am close but not disclosure oriented, would eat that taco with piquant, spicy shock.

I hope God would allow me to look in on that. I think it would be a little delightful, for I love my friends. And they’re sarcastic and would talk righteous shit about me.

Some people know facts, others know feelings. One person truly knows the deep dark & sickly past, another knows the whispered future. One knows what I taste like & has seen me cry, another knows what keeps me going. One knows my tumble of frustrations as only a kindred spirit can, but no details. It’s like the Voltron force of sentence fragments. Some of the hidden feelings are about the others. I think they’d be flattered.

Though my paladin is male, my priest confessors are mostly female. I am honored to have real, good, actual girlfriends at this phase of my life. I’m not good with women, but they are kind & patient with me now, as I guess none of us is competing for the same things.

As they go, it’s like I have three different confessionals, & each hears a piece of what I consider my sins but are actually just inconvenient interpretations of events. I like to think this keeps me from going insane with guilt while still protecting my victims. Each priestess absolves me fully of having done no wrong (yet), save one, who is wily enough to expect wrong doing to occur eventually. And yet this again is my perception. One girl’s giddy anticipation is another’s rational analysis of pros & cons. For me, the con is that I am somehow an awful person for merely entertaining a possibility. How very deeply I’ve been programmed by thought police!

In short, I feel tremendous guilt over a possible future. I feel it like it already happened, without all the benefits therein. This is unfathomably stupid of me.

I torture myself with guilt as a rule. I did it when I was a child & a victim, & now that I’ve absolved myself of being small enough to be dominated, I’ve transferred that guilt to future options for happiness. Yup, I feel guilt over possible ways to serve God with success in the future! Why? Why do I continue to do this?

I think because I’ve very much bought into Peter & Jane simplistic morality. Yes, things are either right or they are wrong. Things are in the Bible or they ain’t. But God would not lead me down a path where I could not serve the greatest good, & I DID ask him to send me there, whatever the cost. And that’s how I fucked up, isn’t it? Like Geordi telling the holodeck to provide a new mystery that even Data couldn’t solve (instead of Holmes), I’ve inadvertently said to God, “I will be your Scorpion clan operative. I will do whatever you ask to serve the Emperor. Whatever. You. Ask.”

HOLY CRAP did I just FULLY geek out or what?!!!

Anyhow, I think I just answered the question I’ve been pouring over in my head for a while now. You need not suffer my florid prose any further.

So. That was fun. Thanks for listening, magic pixies in my blog!

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