I avoid mirrors like the “plague,” but that’s because I know who I am like I’m some sort of vampire. I have been called plenty worse, and yet I continue ever forward because, as the song goes, “And I Can’t Help Myself,” but also. What Is Hell, Forgetting Yourself
Monday, July 6, 2020
Gospel 005 ~What Is Hell, Forgetting Yourself~
Hundred And Forty-Forth Rule
I AM a Billionaire right now, and what’s my name? Yesterday I talked about a friend, a good guy that said “the Will thing” is overplayed. Last week I asked the question, could one ever get sick and tired of money. To these things, I will answer. Tell me I could only write things like Gulp, The Safe Word Is, and Miss Someday for the rest of my life. You know I want to be in love, but at the same time, I know what I want out of life. What about ending up like, “Dad?” If I couldn’t be me, Madam Justice, well you’ll see life’s Hell.
Be Yourself, isn’t that what everyone says? My Big Sister told me, you can’t build a strip club by a school. I took her words to heart, and I understand. The thing is, at this stage in the game, I would have to destroy everything, all that I am. My friend, my sister, even Indiana Gone, don’t fully understand the person that I am. Don’t get me started on my “charming” family. Now I have My Dæmon, of course, and he understands my love for him, but what else? Indiana Gone watched “Of Inner Demons” with me, but even she doesn’t know my depravity. Then there are the times I have to pretend, and we all do. Sometimes I think I’m too damn good at it, which explains the Day Job. I then look at those I do care for, and what happens? The Rainbow Girl, MILF Dos, do I have to continue Madam Justice?
Cherry talked about being a stalker, and in a way, I know I’m the same. I told Indiana Gone that I’m the type of guy who will watch a porno flick for the fashion choices. When I watch porn or get off, I have to know everything about a girl, name, age, measurements, etc. It helps with my novels because that’s the only way I’ll ever know them. At the same time, I don’t because I turn them into what the story demands. It should be a Hell worthy trespass to do that. At the same time, forgetting who you are to be what someone needs. Nobody needs me, but they all make me out to be, well, something vile.
I’m going to Hell for plenty, but being remembered honestly? What Is Hell, Forgetting Yourself
I Will Have No Fear