I'd been considering some of the things I'd done or been doing recently, and I hypothesised for a while on the hellish fate that was likely to proceed from my misdeeds. If one were to know that they were destined to suffer forever, would it be worth being any different, or do you just continue to do the things that elicit your constant burning? On top of all the aches and pains of my body that have all been physical, I've caused a great amount of emotional pressure to boil and evaporate through tears, laughter and misplacing my effort to 'preach' lessons of a better and more effectual life to friends and strangers alike. Through all of this I've had to feel nothing but empathy for the civil society who had to share this elucidation of mine, with me, on the trains, or the bus or the streets, and even, in some instances; their own homes. It's been a queer two weeks and in which I've only ever been assured that I had felt always so very peculiar.
I wrote this as I began a slow transformation, though I never ceased my own changing to take in the lesson
One must stop
doing such things;
they take from light
and submerge us
in darkness
and into the Gray.
The rot of our souls,
our steady decomposition-
into mortal Sin
shall be expressed
in our faces,
our minds
and our gait.
In sickness
and in health.
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