Bless me, Mother, for I have sinned (or rather, I want to make them sin)
Have I sinned? I do not particularly care. I just fail to understand my kinks. I could have liked something normal, like puppy play or exhibitionism, but no. I had to be sacrilegious.
I like the idea of monastic life. I have no faith but, if I did, I might have wanted to be a nun. I think about it often. In fact, I fell asleep thinking about it a few nights ago, and I had a very vivid dream of turning a whole convent into my little den of sin. I can think of few things I would enjoy more than turning each and every single sacrament into a twisted, pleasurable mockery of itself. The details I leave up to your imagination.
I digress. I had that dream, then I recently dreamed of something much simpler. I dreamed of turning a single nun away from the church, into worshipping me instead. I do not mean worship as play, but worship as true undisputable faith. Not the kind of worship that results in hungry eyes, but the kind that results in a re-shaping of the soul.
Again, I digress. Just thinking about these already puts a sadistic smile on my face, and I do not even have religious trauma. Not that I know of, at least. I suppose my ego has finally grown large enough to want to usurp their god. Perhaps, to want to diablerize him, if you catch my reference.
I do not think I know what the point of this post was supposed to be. I guess telling you about these thoughts seemed better than whispering them into the void. Therefore, my voids and voidettes, I thank you for your time. Until we see each other again, if we see each other again, farewell.