Guilt came to me one certain day, wearing the mask of Religion. I welcomed her in with a smile. We made merry but as she left, she stabbed me in the back. My life spilled, my soul slipping away. Twice yearly she came to me, policing my progress, enforcing her rules. Each time, my face paled, my heart all a flutter within me. More each year I pleased her and her visits became grand. Out went the carpet, my ease no where to be found. Leaving, she rent my soul. I'd smiled, looked her deep in the eyes and felt the warmth of her approval.
Yet there was this weakening, and then there came a rage. I called her out. I made her pay. And finally I saw her...unmasked. I laughed in her face, "Oh, it's you! What a player you are! You talked me out of my soul and nearly out of my mind! I'd sooner die than give one more moment to you! I will find a way to honor my Creator...and neither you nor your alter-ego will have anything to do with it."
This, from an otherwise empty journal, written last summer, 2012.
Yet there was this weakening, and then there came a rage. I called her out. I made her pay. And finally I saw her...unmasked. I laughed in her face, "Oh, it's you! What a player you are! You talked me out of my soul and nearly out of my mind! I'd sooner die than give one more moment to you! I will find a way to honor my Creator...and neither you nor your alter-ego will have anything to do with it."
This, from an otherwise empty journal, written last summer, 2012.
