Halo fire goddess mama

I don't think there's a god somewhere out there to punish me for my sins. Honestly... A lot of the gods seem cool with a little violence. Otherwise, I don't know why a bit of the Christians and Muslims and Vikings and empire upon empire across history have taken it to heart at some point in time that murder makes the most sense and is holy and for their creator. Anyway. There's no one to punish me then, but me.

There might be a Satan-Lucifer-type bad guy, though. Honestly, maybe that's the god they're talking about. Maybe it's fun. Maybe the one above is also the one below. Why else would humanity be full of such duality?

Enough about my beliefs. That's not why I'm here, is it? You want to know why I was able to tell you where all those bodies were... That's the point of this. Isn't it?

I can't tell you where it started. I can't tell you if it was dream or reality. I just know it began with a hunger. And a red thing in the middle of the room that just looked enough like food to me to be worth the risk.

Can't say I wasn't warned. I dunno, blame the world for telling me as a fat person, I am therefore a vacuum cleaner for all the food in the world. Maybe that's why...

Nah. I was just hungry. It wasn't something that made sense to me but I suddenly felt hungrier than I ever had in my life. I could've consumed the world and still felt a gape where food needed to be. Do you know; the longest I've ever gone without food is probably a day? Sounds like chicken change to some but that was me, starving myself on purpose... For you, probably. For the world to see me as something good enough. Strange how it makes so little sense looking back.

I was warned. Something warned me. It gave this whole explanation. Every word is embedded into my brain even now... Do you believe in a higher power? I believe in dirty ones. The ones with mischief on the brain.

I should've been more horrified at what she did. What I did. What we did. I should have been disgusted, you know? Yet I kept eating that meat that I was beginning to realise wasn't cooked or from an animal at all and I wouldn't stop. I just didn't see the point, anymore. And when I cried... Was it from terror or relief? When I saw those memories in my head, when I felt the blade in my hand and heard their screams...

I can tell you genuinely that I liked it more than I should admit. Especially if I'm to convince you that it wasn't me, even if I don't fully believe that anymore. That's what I'm saying. Dirty, nasty, lower powers. The kind that don't give a shit about the right or the wrong, only the hunger. Only filling the hunger.

Every strike made me feel high as a kite. Every strike made me feel like even more of a coward and when hurting myself proved insufficient in curbing the hunger, the boredom, the quest for something else, something new... What else was I to do?

Looking back... There's not much more to say. You think it's me. I think it's me even though I know it isn't. I'd imagined hurting people before I ever did it. Would I do it again? No. Despite what you may think, I'm a sensitive coward, I feel ashamed of the shit I felt me doing in my head. But would I imagine it? It's like asking an addict who's decided to go sober whether they still think about it or not.

Days as early as this? When I've only just been caught? I fuckin' daydream about that shit. Sometimes I wonder if the bastard who did all this got my own sins. The things she did, I thought and the things I thought, she did. I call her ✨she✨ because I like the thought of a badass goddess doing the job. Way hotter than yet another boring white man. My lady has a halo of fire in the shape of an afro on her head like the burning bush some dead bible dude saw once.

I wonder if my own cowardice helped her see it in herself. I wonder if she wonders where the good times went. If she's as lost as me and wondering, as this news comes out, if it's really possible. Dead, maybe?

I wonder if the me that was me is gone. I should regret stuffing that heart into my mouth but what can I say? I was hungry as hell and in life, we accept the mess that feels the most comfortable, no matter how sickening it really is. I'd give you more details but you look almost terrified... It's a good look on you, I know I'm familiar with it. Go take a break. I won't make any more sense when you come back than I do right now.

I'm not here to make sense. I just wanna fuck around. I've got nothing to lose anymore. I even lost the fear but damn, what a cost. Hope halo-fire goddess-mama is doing okay with all that shit in the brain. Hope she, like me, is too paralysed by fear to start again and simply lays in bed to wait for dreams and red, sticky things to change her life.