Gutter of consciousness
The unseen, the unheard, the unknown, the unavailable, the infinite, ineffable, indolent, incapacitated, articulate, article of faith that sweeps me off the threshing floor into the Great Fire as it burn higher and consumes my dry flesh, not meant for consumption in this world or the next.
I am a whore and a harlot, a slut and a starlet. I devour the flesh that pleases my eye without concern for source or why, but I need it. I need it like I need air and I must have it or else I’ll die. Starve and shrivel up and my unquenched thirst will parch me.
But to eat, to eat is to sin, to eat is to enjoy and that cannot be. It cannot be. The utterly vile desires of a base mind, a corrupt mind. But I live in a corrupt world. Do I not deserve to enjoy myself as I see fit? As it is fit. Is not God at fault for being pure in a world that is not?
I am justified in my action because I am a natural man and I behave naturally doing the things that come natural to me, and doing them with pleasure. Nay, gusto. Shall I stay in a moral torpor when I can be sinfully vigorous?
Is not sloth a sin?
If I do as I please, then it pleases God. He wants me to be happy and it makes him happy to see me happy. So that should be my greatest method of honoring him, no?
I am a created being and if he is my maker, my faults are his. Not mine. Certainly not mine. I am a wind up doll and he wound me up wrong and the wounds I feel and inflict are from his very hands, albeit it indirectly.
I am justified in doing evil because there is no evil. There is only existence and nothing after and I should feel rapture because I shall not be taken away from this place. I shall die and find myself disappointed with oblivion.
What greater sin is there than disappointment?