Fiction From G. Washington

I want to be part of society so very, very badly. During my marriage in the 1990's I self indulged to the extreme. I did not care at all about my life. I spent everything I had on a good feeling, which was also the worst feeling of all time. The sickness of narcotics addiction took away my wife and my freedom. I cared about nobody else but my self, always. Though it has always been possible to fight off the grief and emptiness our overall society never took me back into its fold completely, because I never used my education to really try to get a job. I set off on a voyage of sheer madness determined that I could beat the world by never bowing down and doing the right thing. I already had a great gift, and I cast it aside out of pride and vainglory.

I have been made to witness my own oversight so that I be humbled. Nothing that I do is private. Every single flaw of my character, every single slip of physical hygiene, all of these things are made public after having the gall to antagonize society. The shame of failing in the local community arrives at utter revealment when there are no opportunities for advancement. Everything can, and is, taken away from a felon.

There is no end to the parody that has been made of me. All of the writing that I do, all of the music that I make, the very few pieces of visual art, these things are worthless. A lifetime of slithering around in snake skin fools no one, and the travesties mount up. The worst sort of winner does so without care for the truth.

I reached a point of utter expulsion from everyone, of clear mind and body awareness, today. Financial ruin from dishonesty and failure to pay heed to the great gifts given by God can be reversed. Lip service to the church will absolutely not save from damnation, and it will not make a difference being completely cut off from contact with women. Full prayer from the heart will save regardless of any social ties, regardless of any boundaries. Women wanting a man who is financially successful does not mean a flaw in character. A man who can not provide is revealed to be worthless and exposed.

The vow of poverty I took 23 years ago makes me somewhat immune to complete lack of opulence. I once and for all have kissed that horrid atrocity goodbye. Making up for all of the problems caused by the negativity will take a lifetime of work. Everything went wrong when I embraced my own ego over companionship. I chose self-pleasure over teamwork and instant gratification over slowly built rewards. There is no quick fix or quick release to one who has entrapped himself. There is only toil to the marrow.

I see myself very clearly. I am not unpleasing to the eye. I have only begun to see a way to live up to the expectations of the multitudes, the unseen eyes. I alone failed. Through careful attention to guidance I will eventually succeed in my second chance.

To thine own self be true.

[Can't we all agree just agree the man lost his teeth in "combat"? Do we have to go all the way back through colonial records to find out exactly what happened? He obviously could only tell the truth.]

The metatag here is "fiction"