Thursday, July 07, 2005
The Hereafter
Living in New York City, when bad things happen other places, it tends to make you paranoid about your own subway commute. This morning, on the D train, between 125th street and 59th street (I LOVE the express train), I contemplated death. Should something happen to me and I go to meet my Maker, what would he say to me? How do I explain to him my actions of the last week? Would I even be allowed into Heaven? The problem with religion is that it forces a person to be accountable for their actions. How can I account for giving up my virginity to someone that I didn't even love?
I knew that self-recrimination would be inevitable. There was no way around it. I hoped to get by with just a twinge and then move on and have lots more sex. I mean seriously, who wants to be hampered with guilt? It's a waste of time.
Twinge? Check. Tidal wave? Not yet.
I knew that self-recrimination would be inevitable. There was no way around it. I hoped to get by with just a twinge and then move on and have lots more sex. I mean seriously, who wants to be hampered with guilt? It's a waste of time.
Twinge? Check. Tidal wave? Not yet.
