for my will is as strong as yours.
Nov. 17th, 2004 08:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jacktellsliestoday i learned more of kaitlin's uncle, the missionary. the world is full of things that make me want to be off to the nunnery.
i walked a labyrinth in a church. i stripped before going in, like christ or inanna. the bell on my boot first, then an army jacket with gifts in the pocket, my boots, a sweater like a net. and i prayed on a mat, hunched over like a foetus or a muslim until i was numb. then i walked. closer, and farther away. and when i got to the center, i felt like no one. and i went to hell. and i learned what hell is: a dark place, huge, holding only one thing. and there were three judges there, or perhaps nine, and they were wearing masks. and they held it. they held my worst thing, and they said that it would always exist. that it would always be true. but that they would keep it. that it wasn't mine anymore. i could have wept. i shall hope that that moment truly was the center. that i'll have to keep going, getting closer and moving farther away, but that i can know that i am on my way out again. either way, though. it isn't mine anymore.
i walked a labyrinth in a church. i stripped before going in, like christ or inanna. the bell on my boot first, then an army jacket with gifts in the pocket, my boots, a sweater like a net. and i prayed on a mat, hunched over like a foetus or a muslim until i was numb. then i walked. closer, and farther away. and when i got to the center, i felt like no one. and i went to hell. and i learned what hell is: a dark place, huge, holding only one thing. and there were three judges there, or perhaps nine, and they were wearing masks. and they held it. they held my worst thing, and they said that it would always exist. that it would always be true. but that they would keep it. that it wasn't mine anymore. i could have wept. i shall hope that that moment truly was the center. that i'll have to keep going, getting closer and moving farther away, but that i can know that i am on my way out again. either way, though. it isn't mine anymore.