The Sins of a Writer

The Sins of a Writer

500 words based on the quote,

“Sin is the centerpiece of profit, start there muddle it over, and enrich it, and then make it wholly your own.”

I am a writer who has committed many sins, and I start to find them forthcoming, or enamoring, or the very extent of who I chose to be. Isn’t it something, to behold? The regret of sin or the beautiful lie you may say over them? The goal may to be completely liberated, or to find them to that means to an end. Are you there God?

Have you ever eaten or drinkin excessively til the point of gluttony. The point where you don’t recognize your food, what is is, or where it comes from. The alcohol often feels like you’re trying to dive into the subconscious of someone else. The more or less the great drunks or that you may or may not idolize. That you must commit sort of sins or see your vices as something prolific.

Greed does make itself your own person profit spectrum and where you place yourself in the category. Takes it to something either you have not achieved yet or maybe fell to nothing from. Maybe that is where the idea comes from. The payment from whatever that turns you into or from. Does it turn you away from what you may care about completely? That is the grudge. That is breaks you, no matter what possessions.

Anger takes me. It takes me completely, and I probably let it leak out in ways that are more terrible. It starts revolution within you. The hatred, and the horror of witnessing someone with too much of something that should scare you. There isn’t reason to take someone else’s anger for your own, unless you can bear it for the both of you. It is a sin that is personal. Often brought upon myself, as self inflections, or a state of past bewilderment.

I am a liar. I used to lie to many people. That because the attention was someone demystifying. Now as an adult I don’t see it as a necessity, but something to contradict. You do seem to enrich the ideal behind a lie, especially if starts to flourish in unexpected ways. There are countless reasons to do what you are intending, but to tragically break it upon a person or thing, could result in extraordinary circumstances, depending on your point of view.

The lust you can take away or from a woman is something that you make your own, or you lack there of. The sin is to point of tragedy for yourself, and maybe another woman. There is nothing else for you to be said in the regimes of younger and older people lusting for each other in real time. That you may want to crawl into bed with someone new or someone you’ve known into almost perfect, almost selflessly.

Sloth isn’t a term that self identified with me until I learned that you had to actively choose to be who you are every day. The sluggard or the bastard? Wasting who you are as humanity see you as fit. The horrible results being that and understanding exactly who you are from your actions. The gradually missed opportunities, the love lost, and the time ill spend otherwise. It is not as much as you identify with your sins, and nourish them, into something bad or into a sense of lazy self-contentment.

Envy isn’t my fortitude, or who I know from the empty space that differs us, and fills up with something like envy. The differences that we made, maybe partook into why I would feel something into something else, outward from my own vanity. I am often in disbelief of this. This will flummox me, and take me back into a misunderstood personhood, and then violently awoken to a state of envy, yet again, self actualized.

Pride isn’t where I conclude a lot of my thoughts, as a writer. I know that I bring myself to a sense of reality from what I think, or anything I have written down. I have these, to myself, and I find them newer, and my own. Having something completely to yourself, will result in a lot of problems in how you self identify. Yet too much of this ideality is how you start to fall from it.

The profound differences you take away from your sins, or let remain idle. Isn’t something you want to take in, and let consume you. I have religion, it is a ironic and optimistic God. There isn’t many directions, but I will take them as they come, whether I regard myself as a well worn sinner who lived life wholeheartedly.