A few years ago, I had this plan to pursue the POSSIBILITY of a relationship with a friend. I got tired trying to figure me out and after much internal squirming... no... ABJECT TERROR, I sent [by text] a this-is-how-I-feel-about-you kind of thing. The terror of course came from different cracks in the mirror but one of them, the one I tell most often to myself and ... whoever, is that I'm a GodBoy. I know what that means. What that means [AS a GodBoy], is that six months or a year [or several] years later, I'd remember my 'training' or get some kind of divine epiphany and realise that what I was doing was wrong and I'd [painfully] walk away. After all, Christians LOVE a good prodigal son story; still, why drag an innocent into it. Although - full disclosure - I'm more partial/sympathetic/agreeable with/to the OTHER brother in that story; the one who stayed and wondered why the hell would his father spend all his time on the little brat who wasted everything..
Intellectualism Before Baboons