A Puritanical Sinner

alea iacta est

Literary Section | Page IX

alea iacta est

by anon28

"it is less the fact that you have sinned, than it is letting yourself sin, out of your own volition and with culpable deliberation." - my own subconscious

mulling over recent developments in my personal life, i descry amongst the ocean of sinners my own corporeal version of it. as i betake myself closer thither, my mind dwells on one word: contrition. contrition... much like other ideals and virtues, is far easier said than done, and as the weight of my sins exacerbate my scruples, i seek in earnest the relief of forgiveness. hence, i stand before the vastness of the sinful abyss of humanity, inundated with disgrace and the pangs of conscience.

still, i grapple with the underlying nuance of my contrite conscience. that, nonetheless, i deem subject to question. am i sincerely, quintessentially, contrite? or am i contrite, upon taking the ramifications into serious consideration? such is the lurking evil in my subconscious; try how i might, its formidable presence cannot be stifled.

with still a countenance washed over with intermingled dread, penitence, and shame, i feel the venom of sin that has wrought upon my soul the havoc afoot in my conscience seeping through cracks.

much as i might try to atone for them by fair means or foul, whether with sincerity or not, the dread of something bad befalling me suffuses every fabric of my being—lo and behold! i have finally wrung the answer, deep within the tempest of my thoughts; the answer whence my conscience absconds in desperate attempt of stifling the truth.

how deep have my sins embedded themselves into my humanity? how long will they befoul, besmirch, and belie my conscious intentions? the questions go on for years upon years of repeating the same exact cycle of sinning and repenting... or so it would seem.

my words rang hollow, seemingly, and my actions appeared disingenuous. but the consciousness of good intention, i trust, has negated such formidable doubts; the intent underlying my words and actions, at any rate, shall have expelled some dread or another, however, such is clearly not the case for me.

alas, my eyes lock into the ocean, the dark abyss such as had been laden with all the evils of human sin, still descrying amongst the many others, the now faint yet in substance portentous sins which my thoughts in such short durations perpetrated.

i am no believer of the superstitious, nor of the other empyrean forces, save for one: God the Father Himself. the dread and corresponding contrition now cohere into a post-hoc justifying force for all of my moral compunctions, big or small.

the edge draws nearer as i lay my eyes northward, beholding the very sight that reflects the tumult and the tempest going berserk on my mind. my feet remained rooted upon the rocky terrain, vacillating between advancing and staying put, albeit eventually, i sigh, feeling vanquished.

in a sudden pang of compunction, i feel the weight of bruised conscience inducing my person into jumping off the edge. for that, i draw in a sharp breath and gather my strength to fully imbibe in the expanse of the truth as it pours in earnest toward my corporeal and spiritual form. then, at the blink of my own eyes, i lent myself some airtime and plunged with alacrity.

alea iacta est.

I stared long and deliberate at my screen, my tired eyes listlessly skimming over the outpour of raw, candid thoughts that I was nevertheless reluctant to bare to our readership.

Will someone understand?

Much as I may deprecate travesty in writing, there was a perpetual tumult raging down the inner depths of my introspective bubble; a tumult clamoring for truth to be upheld; for morals to be followed. Yet, human and thereby flawed as I am, I succumbed to the call of evil with culpable intent. I could have avoided it; precluded its spreading throughout the extent of my personhood.

I drew back from my desk, feeling the weight of my honesty settling in. What would people think about this? Are they sordid enough to catch the underlying meaning?

I sincerely hope they don't. Otherwise, I can kiss my puritanical reputation goodbye.