It’s been 30 years since my last confession.
Actually, to be honest, I’ve never confessed before. I always thought it was stupid and figured that even if God existed He wouldn’t want to hear the shit in my head.
Oops, sorry about the language, Father. Once a sinner always a sinner, right?

So, where was I..... Oh yeah. I’ve sinned, Father. I’ve sinned numerous times. My mouth is full of evil. Hell, so is my body.
Hell. What a word, eh? I don’t see how such a word could strike so much fear into a person. It’s such a tiny word.
Sorry, Father, I get sidetracked a lot.

Sins. Father, I have spent 30 years lying to someone, whether it be myself, family or the person lying next to me in bed. The person with the great desire for brutal honesty is the biggest liar. I once convinced several people that I had cancer. Yep, that was a definite rock bottom moment, right? I mean, what the fuck kind of person does actual research in order to convince people she has cancer? So anyways, yeah, I did that. I never did confess to it, either. To this day there may very well be people who think I have cancer.
I lie to myself daily, Father. Not sure if that one even counts. I convince myself that tomorrow will be better, that I won’t be alone and that sins do not exist. Now hold on, Father, before you say anything just let me get everything out and save the forgiveness and advice for last, ok? I gotta get this shit off my chest. I might be self-deprecating but I figure we’re all entitled to it a little. So what if I know how to tell a story to the point where everyone is feeling sorry for me? That makes me a genius. Now I just need to figure out how to take that power and use it for...good...yeah...good. Now I know what you’re thinking. I know it sounds like I am trying to get out of confessing here, but I’m not. Seriously. I just had some thoughts is all.

So these stories I tell. Well, I don’t know which are true anymore. I’ve done too many drugs, drank too much alcohol, lied too many times to figure out the difference between reality and the stories I tell. I know how to manipulate well, Father. Have people eating out of my ass if I wanted. Sorry for being vulgar, Father, just wanna make sure you get the hint here. I can get people to do anything for me! And I do mean anything. People see my big breasts, huge eyes and genuine smile and they become putty. Oh yeah, it’s gotten me pretty far in life. I look around and I could call 30 different people at this very moment, tell them I’m being tortured and they’d all get in their cars, ride the bus, hop a plane to get to me as quickly as possible. And when they get to me and see I’m ok, well, they won’t even care because they’ll just be so happy to see me. It’s insane, Father! Hell, maybe I’m the fucking antichrist, huh? All this power based on love or lust, doesn’t even matter which one anymore. I use what I’ve got and I don’t give any more than I get.

Now, I’m sure I sound like an evil person, and I’ve already admitted to being evil, but I have some good intentions in there. I swear, Father, I do. That’s why I am here. I need to know how to stop being the way that I am. I don’t like myself anymore. Hell, I don’t think I ever did like myself... But really, I really really hate myself now. I don’t want to be able to see the things I see. I don’t wanna know who I can take advantage of and how much I can get from them. I swear it was God who gave me this “gift” and now God needs to take it back, Father!

No, Father. I’m ok. I am crying, yes, but it doesn’t matter. I haven’t even begun to truly confess and already I don’t think I can go on. Hell, you aren’t sounding too good either. It’s just....well...how do you know any of this was even true? Maybe everything I’ve said, including what I am saying now, has been a lie.

The truth is, Father, that it doesn’t really make a goddamn difference if God forgives me for anything, if anything I said was true, if I do continue to sin, if I am the biggest hypocrite in the world.... None of it matters. Because. Because I really just came here to see your reaction. The truth is, if you even want to believe this is the truth now, that I came here to die. Yes, Father, I am serious. I figured the best place to die is in a confessional booth.

So Father, forgive me for I am about to sin for the last time.

07/15/2010

Author's Note: I don't really know what this is or where it came from. Maybe it's an idea for a short story. Maybe it's going to be broken down and turned into a poem one day. I don't know.

Posted on 07/15/2010
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