The Queen – Chapter 2 – The subjects of the Queen

The late afternoon turned to the late night, evidenced by the visible change in both volume and appearance of my queens subjects. The large middle aged blue collar slave, began to morph into, a slicker, more refined slave, those whose love for my queen, gave birth to other interests, like little meetings in the restroom, hushed conversation with obvious handshakes concluding their business. The toll my queen takes on her subjects spurred them on to more devious measures of support for her, their habit. I reached for what I thought was my last 10, and with disgruntled acknowledgment, got a small wad of pocket lint in return. My evening was over, time to make room for the others. I swayed a little when I got up, the servants of my queen were generous in their distribution of libations, knowing that it eased the passage of my money, her money, onto her throne. My breath, in a misty complaint of the cold air, clouded my sight as I walked out into the dull colors of the night. I breathed in deep, sorrow at having to leave my queen. Lowering my eyes, focusing on the crumpled paper blowing aimlessly at my feet, I followed it’s haphazard path down the street away from the throne. I felt the slight tap at my shoulder, it jolted me from my miserable summation, and turning, I see, my queen. Or was it? She had removed her royal garb, her hair a different color, (the wig hanging with her ornaments in the changing room). Her eyes softer, dare I say, innocent, without the heavy colors, the extended lashes, that brought out their seductive gaze from the dark. Speaking a whisper in my ear, I knew, it was her, my queen, her voice had confirmed her bond. She still had control, even in this visage. I knew, in a few soft words, my role of servant, now went to protector…amazing how she can put me in positions that I never thought I could fill. I, the newly knighted slave, threw my coat around her. Come my queen, I’ll protect you, youll be safe with me. This is why I work my mundane, back breaking job, so I might protect her and escape from the listless world that was mine, outside this Queen’s castle.

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So Your Confused About Me – A friends disturbing confession

 “You have a perfect right to consign us all to hell, rector, but you must allow us the choice of how we get there.Angus Wilson, The Pan Book of Horror Stories

judgementalrocks

A friend of mine shared this with me:


OK, yes I am a christian. I was born again spirit filled when I was 14. I spent the next 16 years of my life in ministry. I witnessed on the street. I led a bible study in high school, even sang worship songs in the halls with my guitar. I went to Christian College to get a degree to be a missionary. I was a youth pastor, bible teacher, worship leader, and whatever else I could do to talk about Jesus. I argued with pastors, teachers, other religions. I used my intellect to force many to concede to my truths. HOWEVER, there are two worlds inside me. That world is real, but, I have a horribly stained, damaged and wild side to me that has a rage that is incomparable, a lust unquenchable, and desire to please you that will make me compromise my own identity and security. So, I can see your confused, I help you, not just to help you, but because I feel like I HAVE to. You suspect somethings up, your right. If your a woman, I will likely lust after you. I will show you love, whether or not you want it and if I’m rejected then I’ll go off in a rage and take back all I gave you. OK, so, yes, I’m not perfect. Yes, I’m strange. Yes, I’m likely to flip on a dime if you hurt me and tear your head off. I’m likely to flip on dime if you don’t hurt me and tear your head off. You see I live in extremes. I’m either extremely in love with you, or I extremely hate you and wish you dead. I’m going all the way to help you or leave you lying there. My fault, I am changing though. Here is where my Christianity helps me. You think it a great offense when I say “FUCK YOU” or get pissed and beat someone’s ass or show signs of sexual desire and you mumble how unchristian I am. What you don’t realize is that I really want to hang your body on a meat hook and strangle you with your own intestines. No, really. Do you see how christian I am now by just saying “FUCK YOU”? Don’t look at the little “wrongs” I do, realize that in my nature of extremes, the fact that its a little wrong is actually a good thing, for both of us. Moderation in all things, that is my goal. Sorry if I offend you with my duality, my dichotomy as I like to refer it. But I do care, I do believe, and I am changing for the better. So if you are confused about me, you have a right to be so. So put that in your judgmental pipe and smoke it. 

        

My Worst Enemy – Self deprecation

“All the shitty stuff people do to themselves… it can all be the same thing, you know? Just a way to drown out your own voice. 
To kill your memories without having to kill yourself.” – Isaac Marion, Warm Bodies

Giggling, you see me. I was hiding and you found me, again. I ran but you took a short cut and found me. I yelled but you hid and wouldn’t let anyone see you. They say I’m crazy now. You always hide when I tell someone about you. You tormented me most of my life. At every turn youre there to talk your crap about me. Your sure to tell me what negative thing someone else is thinking about me, you won’t even give them a chance to say it first. You hurt me more than anyone I know. I finally gave up running and you found other ways to torment me. You love the chase. I partied so hard trying to get rid of you, I nearly died. I lost everything, all trying to hide from you. The times you beat me, I just cant count them. I relied on you to help me many, many times. You always let me down, and left me to my own escapes: drugs, parties, sex, and music. Damn if I could just live without you Id be better off. Quit talking to me, quit stealing my dreams, quit trying to make me feel guilty. Just quit it! I’m tired of you, get out of my life. But you wont listen, you just hide, waiting for the chance to shoot me in the foot again, then laugh as you see me trying to pick myself up. I know you well, my enemy. I know you well because you are me.

My Worst Enemy – Self deprecation

“All the shitty stuff people do to themselves… it can all be the same thing, you know? Just a way to drown out your own voice. 
To kill your memories without having to kill yourself.” – Isaac Marion, Warm Bodies

Giggling, you see me. I was hiding and you found me, again. I ran but you took a short cut and found me. I yelled but you hid and wouldn’t let anyone see you. They say I’m crazy now. You always hide when I tell someone about you. You tormented me most of my life. At every turn youre there to talk your crap about me. Your sure to tell me what negative thing someone else is thinking about me, you won’t even give them a chance to say it first. You hurt me more than anyone I know. I finally gave up running and you found other ways to torment me. You love the chase. I partied so hard trying to get rid of you, I nearly died. I lost everything, all trying to hide from you. The times you beat me, I just cant count them. I relied on you to help me many, many times. You always let me down, and left me to my own escapes: drugs, parties, sex, and music. Damn if I could just live without you Id be better off. Quit talking to me, quit stealing my dreams, quit trying to make me feel guilty. Just quit it! I’m tired of you, get out of my life. But you wont listen, you just hide, waiting for the chance to shoot me in the foot again, then laugh as you see me trying to pick myself up. I know you well, my enemy. I know you well because you are me.