V. Flagellations For Christ

Words are the hard leather tails of a whip when I turn them upon myself. As blood flows from my body, it brings wisdom and honesty to me. Pain cleanses my body and my mind, which are one. I am the heir to the duties of those who flagellated themselves for Christ. They flogged themselves to repay Jesus for his sacrifice for mankind. More importantly though, they whipped themselves to feel the freedom pain affords; the freedom of absolute control. If I can control my perception of the world, I can control the world. If I am able to hurt myself or to bring myself joy, I am in control of the expanse of my knowledge. Everything I can conceive; everything I can imagine; is under my control as long as I have control of my mind. The moment I lose my mind I lose everything.

I want to write to purge my head of the lamentations with which I accost myself, and of the jealousies and the cruelties that I inflict upon myself and upon others. I write because I always write when anger grips me and when happiness moves me. I write because I can never fail when I assert my will on paper. I want my weakness to stop manifesting itself in my thoughts and I want my strength to carry me forward. Until I walk on feet, instead of dreams, I am nothing but my cold gratification at self-bestowed pain.