The whore picker

Probably about 100 times a week my voices call me a whore. I’m a whore or have been but I’ve gone to church, confession, exorcism, I confess and pray and holy salt and oil and a thousand things to just try to redeem my soul a little bit and then I think to myself, once again and for last, it’s great fun to be a whore. Can’t get it out of my system, creepy as fuck, god damns me a zillion times a day. Or I’m a poor devil, a worthless lightbringer filled with rage, pouring holy water and hyssop everywhere until finally we have peace and quiet from these awful feelings and mental illness. It seems like I’ve blessed away all my blessings, there used to be pros to being nutty, I looked hot and had fun, now it’s toil and trouble, toil and trouble. God please take this chaos away, I’m not enough of a vip to get away with all this worthless awareness _ I guess the message is that I can’t be saved by god entirely, I’ve tried successfully and done what I can, it simply minimizes damage, I get to live another day, I never seem to shine, I never seem to excel, I never seem to be amazing, the wonderful alien I am. It seems like others take my place, are my being, thier reality is created by me, yet although I have learned to create my reality, the trick is changed and I no longer make my future, it’s created by god and never sufficient, I’m wandering blindly doing the next right thing for the next idiot who takes my place. I’m doing the next right thing, sometimes the next wrong thing, always shocked and upset that I did the wrong thing, no matter how trivial it is that I did the wrong thing, I am mad at the devil or angel that made me do it and the potential consequences, and breather there were none but the shock and upset which ruined my day and made me feel it wasn’t {perfect} it was a day made for a subhuman worm that try’s to make me slinky, sly, wrong, do things to make me feel good, that indeed make me bad bad bad. Why would this be my life when there’s so much potential for life to be good? To smile? To laugh? There’s potential for me to be great. There’s potential for me to be happy and have peace, but I don’t believe it. Kill kill meh meh just do it for me, my job is tech support. I’m me.

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Published by: Elaine M

I’m a magical 44 year old who bargains she will experience joy and happiness someday and has aversion to the great pain and suffering from the past, who longs for the enlightenment of all in a gentle and loving way.

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