DEAR SOUL

I hear the rumblings, see the written words of repentant souls, looking for a way to begin again, knowing that will never be. So, they search for salvation in confessionals, in letters they write in the night, when sleep cannot be found, nor the peace of mind they so desperately need. This blog has some rather large and seemingly difficult words to express their unanswered prayers, supplications, compromises... no compromises in life, once a choice is made.

I understand your frustrations, your inability to let go of your iniquities, your compulsions to do that which serves you – knowing that you will pay the greater price in the end. Why? What is it really about?

I've written a letter for my own self-serving, narcissistic, arrogant choices, pleading with my soul to just go, break free, so that I can no longer contaminate its purity in purpose. I cannot hear its good intentions, its better advice – and I suppose, if I could, I'd still choose this path. How do I stop being ME?

HOW DO YOU STOP BEING ... YOU?

Dear Soul,

I fear I have been negligent in my duties to keep you from these desecrations... in such wickedness, immorality and perversions, that I have loosened the elements of repudiations, and the capriciousness, internality and aversions – the resonance, these manifestations!

There may not be due diligence for all these cruelties I reap from these deviations.

It is a sickness, this abnormality, and the diversions that confuse one's sense of reparations for deviousness in sentimentality and subversions – the innocence lost in mannerist violations!

I am not worthy of your devotions, these complicated emotions that pull me to and fro. I can no longer choose which way to go. I cannot hear your counsel, your advice; I denounce all that you devise.

Ready to separate before it's too late, let go of formality, surrender my mortality. Leave this earthly plane, this devised reality and go insane; a revised virtuality, a disguised virtuosity, where no one is to blame.

Honestly, aren't you and I the same?

Sincerely yours,

Another soul without a name,

(simply playing the game.)

M TERESA CLAYTON