This afternoon I lit some incense, a couple of candles, and began to work. I prayed. I just had to talk aloud to get it out of my heart and chest. I cried.
I rearranged my temple, I started to clear out the chambers of it’s rubble and random debris. A couple lines of different lyrics played in my mind. They made me smile.
Simple pleasures, falling feathers. Stripping my skin over again. Shivering pale under my nails. Back when they were teaching me to colour in between the lines, of the cushions of my soul I found a remote, now I’m changing time. Peeling layers.Kidneythieves. Layers of feathers.
I asked my god to help me create a better version of myself. I’m still to hear a reply. But I have faith he won’t abandon me this time.
Begin somewhere, anywhere. It doesn’t even have to be at the beginning. Just start doing. The ritual will begin when you intend it to commence. The rewards you want to harvest must first be planted.
It is important to do. And if anyone is going to write about it, one must also be seen to be doing. It doesn’t have to make sense now, you can always go back and change what was written. Clear communication and presentation of the truth can always be edited and backdated later on, once clarity has been achieved.
Return to my minutiae.
My temple, the house of my god, is still in shambles and disarray. See, for I am a terrible hypocrite. I stopped to write about my experience for public sharing, instead of finishing the work I set out to do when I had begun.