Ruminations of an Afterlife

Oh fuck you, Cardinal Bertone

"Many psychologists, many psychiatrists have demonstrated that there is no relationship between celibacy and paedophilia but many others have demonstrated, I was told recently, that there is a relationship between homosexuality and paedophilia," he said. "That is true. I have the documents of the psychologists. That is the problem."

EXCUSE ME!?

Though I have to say...good on France.

"This is an unacceptable linkage and we condemn this," foreign ministry spokesman Bernard Valero told reporters in Paris. "France is firmly engaged in the struggle against discrimination and prejudice linked to sexual orientation and gender identity."

The attempt to link homosexuality with paedophilia was a "dramatic confession of weakness [betraying] the confused state in which the Catholic Church now finds itself," Mr Merlo added.

If someone is a paedophile, they're a paedophile. And, you know...fucking disgusting. Their sexual orientation is irrelevant. I hate it when I read shit like this. It makes me ashamed of my past but even more so? It hurts me. I gave years...I gave my life for that Church and my lifestyle and the lifestyle of people I love gets attacked like this? It's soulcrushing. Who are they to judge?

I hope one day, this will all go away.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME!

DO I HAVE 'I HAPPEN TO HAVE A VERY FLEXIBLE TONGUE' TATTOOED TO MY FUCKING FOREHEAD OR SOMETHING?!?!

Edit: ( This is what I am !!!ing about )

I have no idea what to do about this.

I keep dreaming and dreaming, and it's all memories. Or it was. Now there's added freakout elements which I can't stand. I don't like that I'm reliving those weeks with Amaris every time I sleep, but it's worse when I remember things I'd forgotten. Like...I found bits of wood in that hole underneath the abandoned house. The place she moved me to? The house above was falling apart and splintered wood was littering the floor all over. And I remembered last night that I was so hungry and desperate I tried to eat it. It was filthy and disgusting and wood and I put it in my mouth and I tried to chew it up and it cut my tongue. And then I cried for far too long about the fact that I couldn't eat the wood. There was peeling wallpaper on the walls and I tried to eat that too. It did not work out so well.

I won't tell you what I did eat in case you don't know, but I dreamed about that too.

And then I dreamed Spectre and James were there with me. Obviously, that part isn't memory, but it's twice as terrifying. Watching them suffer, even if I get to wake from it, is more horrible than crying because I was dying of starvation and the wood was inedible.

This along with everything else? I don't need it. Everything's bollocks right now. Except I'm here and that is not bollocks. I'm grateful every day for that.

Right, okay. So hi. I'm really back. Really. I'm so sorry I got lost. I didn't know where I was, or why I was stuck there. I couldn't see anything or hear anyone...there was just nothingness and I was terrified. For the past...little bit, whatever it was that kept me there started to fade. I can only guess that was because Peter had a vision that said you searching for me was making it worse somehow? Anyway... I got free today and it was Sacrifice. Sacrifice and some demon were holding me there. I don't know how, though I can guess at why. Because she's a stupid cunt-headed bitch.

Ahem. Sorry. It was hellish to say the least. Hellish.

Deirdre brought me back. I know that's confusing as well, but she did. When I first saw her, I thought she was dead too, but she wasn't, thank everything. She was having a hell of a time fighting the pull. But we were able to fight it together.

Apparently I have missed a crapload of shit in just two months. So...I think it would be a good idea to be filled in.

Again, I'm so sorry I was gone. I hate that you all must have worried. Now it's my turn to worry, and to help. I'm me again. Strong. The way I was before Amaris got to me. And I'll do whatever needs doing.

After I see my kids. And my Mums.

Is she trying to get me to turn myself over to her?!

Not Christina. Not her.