It’s all about our Mother.
About sacrament, about sacrifice, about the ability to show that you belong in the temple by the blood in your mouth and on your hands.
It’s not fair. It’s not fair to anybody… not any menber of my family. And my only guess is that it’s not supposed to be. Everybody pays. And the only reason I can see it all going down this way is a challenge, a gauntlet. Maybe the only challenge I’ll ever get from Mother that I can look right at and say “I can do that.”
So maybe it’s not me. Maybe it’s not my faith being tested, this time. Only my resolve.
And compared to faith, resolve is easy.
In other news…
There have been a few experiences as of late that have shown me that I am not alone in something – something I have always felt lost in, abandoned – pariah. But like attracts like, that the Mark of Cain shines true, like a beacon. We can smell each other on the street, sitting next to each other at the movies. You just… know.
Sometimes it’s nice just to feel understood.
I could have lost a friend… but she took the time to understand; and she can understand.,.. because she’s Marked too. Thank you.
Judy saw me through that- then felt the shadow of it herself. That quiet voice that says “burn it down burn it down burn it down…and oh, isn’t that so sweet so sweet so sweet… because nothing… and I mean nothing tastes as good as that.”
And so she whispered her elliptical threats, her opaque menace.
Arson. Abandonment. Ruin.
Speaking my language, the secret language of twins. And it was coming Home. It was a dangerous intimacy, keen with duality, kissing with razors in our mouths; sleeping like angels with knives under our pillows. Children of Kali, the devouring Mother, creator and destroyer. We have our fishhooks in each other now, and the music has just started. Let’s rock.
It’s good not to be alone.