go ahead, tell me. I can keep a secret. confess your sins. describe your desires. reveal the temptations that make you weak and ashamed. tell me what hurts you and what makes you sick inside. divulge to me the evils that lurk in your thoughts. I wont tell a soul, I promise.
because I've been there in that strange room doing strange things with strange persons. with cracked lips and my mouth bone dry. pungent and foul, sweat in every corner and crevice of my body like a shiny disease. desperate and aching and anxious for more. I've been paranoid and violent and looking for blood. and soft and cowardly and too sad to move. I've been paralyzed by just how pathetic I am and worn arrogance like a bright red hatred. I've been rude and aloof and didnt even notice. I've lied and looked people in the eye and said I was a the truth and I didnt even care if they believed me because at the time I really thought I was. I've been stupid. very stupid. we all have.
there is no pure person, and the closest you get to one is not a person who is pure, but a person who recognizes the malignant portions of their appetite and attempts to curb them. the person who appreciates what is wrong, but doesnt partake in its privilege. show me a person who is pure good and ill show you a mirror and then cut up lines on it, then ill offer you money for sexual favors and be quite cheap about it.
I've stolen. I stole a video game when I was a kid, just a middle school bastard with something to prove. I stole some candy when I was even younger than that, an elementary punk that had some dumb ideas. I stole money from my mothers purse, even though she didnt have any to spare, then I cried I was hungry and made her shovel up some more, then I probably stole that, I cant remember. I've stolen peoples youth, but I dont really count that, because they put it out there for me to have. I have stolen the spotlight though, and I feel kinda bad about it, but whatever. I've stolen a girls heart, but then she forgot it was gone so I gave it back, then I tried to steal it again.
I've stolen ideas. plenty of 'em. I'm stealing this one right now.
I've never physically murdered someone, but I've wanted to. and I wanted them to suffer, in front of a thousand people. I've thought of smashing someones head open with a baseball bat. but then got kinda sick because that was so gory, and decided I wanted to stab them in the neck instead. I've wanted people to get murdered, because I thought that was what they deserved, and further, what they wanted. I've even watched someone murder themselves, and wanted to join along.
I've felt superior to people, as if I'm more enlightened than them. I've felt that some thoughts didnt matter, and werent worth my time. I've considered people less than me, like I'm some kind of big shot or something.
I've taking things to far. I've done some crystal at night, and the next morning some ketamine. then, because I was still awake, I went to freebase cocaine and then took some xanex. when that wore off I did some more speed and trolled the seedy areas for a low priced hooker. but then I couldnt come because of all the drugs, so I smoked some crack instead. after that it was morning so I went home and booted some tar while watching tv. then I fell asleep wishing nothing ever ended.
I could go on, but I'm not the one thats confessing. let it be you this time. I will take on your sins. let them burden me. I absolve you. I forgive you. I find you pure again. I will keep your secrets. I promise. because I, my friends, am a saint.