October challenge - Yom Kippur
Oct. 13th, 2011 11:28 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
We are raised, Conditioned Servitors, to be secular but with a great deal of religious education. While it is rare for us to serve members of the Crone or Lance, it is not impossible. Indeed, I served members of both. Quite well, and leaving me quite fond.
I must admit, atonement (and the holidays regard them) was not something I was interested in when I was alive. We are trained only to doubt ourselves when our employer wishes it. Otherwise we are resolute in our beliefs and intentions – although of course these are moulded for each Domitor we serve.
But now, of course, I am a completely different creature. Each new day I discover a part of this me, some of which I love and some of which I loathe.
Loathing myself is a new experience for me. Wanting to confess, to atone, is a desire I feel but don’t fully understand.
This, I think, is why I had that intense, frank – but frankly confused and confusing – conversation with young Sacha (is he sweet? I bet he is sweet), and why I tried to explain what I was (or wasn’t, as the case may be) to Lucy. All this honesty is atonement. I am exposing myself in some sort of mental self-flagellation.
I am sorry. I am sorry. But who do I say I’m sorry to?
I must admit, atonement (and the holidays regard them) was not something I was interested in when I was alive. We are trained only to doubt ourselves when our employer wishes it. Otherwise we are resolute in our beliefs and intentions – although of course these are moulded for each Domitor we serve.
But now, of course, I am a completely different creature. Each new day I discover a part of this me, some of which I love and some of which I loathe.
Loathing myself is a new experience for me. Wanting to confess, to atone, is a desire I feel but don’t fully understand.
This, I think, is why I had that intense, frank – but frankly confused and confusing – conversation with young Sacha (is he sweet? I bet he is sweet), and why I tried to explain what I was (or wasn’t, as the case may be) to Lucy. All this honesty is atonement. I am exposing myself in some sort of mental self-flagellation.
I am sorry. I am sorry. But who do I say I’m sorry to?