Hello again.
Recently I’ve been thinking about sin.
I wonder if people really are all born with darkness in their hearts, or if there are those who are born without that little pinch of shameful truth. I only know that there’s no chance of absolutely everyone being perfectly pure, because I myself am not. Sorry to drag you all down, folks. But then, I don’t reckon everyone who’s been executed for murder is pure of heart either, so, that’s reassuring.
I jest, of course. I’m not so silly as to think myself on par with those hearts of black desire. I just happen to be acquainted with my own shame.
I once was told of a particular piece of my writing that the narrator carried too much self-loathing. I don’t know about that. Such people exist, surely. Perhaps it’s not entertaining to entertain such a thought process, but I felt it was worth writing about.
I wonder what it would be like, to be a soul clean of sin, and realize that the person you’re talking to is anything but. Would you envy them? Fear them? Respect their stalwart efforts in self-denial? I have to doubt envy or fear could occur, because these themselves speak to some moral corruption. Maybe not fear. But fear suggests a lack of trust, and I think trust is a powerful indicator of good in a person.
Is doubt a sin?
Anyway, I’ve uploaded a short story today. I rather like it, but I wonder if I shouldn’t have trimmed it down. In school, I always felt that I didn’t write enough when answering questions for assignments. I try to resist the urge to trim now, but perhaps I should invest in my own brevity.
Maybe I could appear more mysterious that way.
So long for now!