American Girl
2026-07-21
I woke up this morning pissed. I can't tell you exactly why, but the vitriol is flowing through my veins strongly today. Coupled with fatigue and what I think is another onset of a depressive episode, it's difficult to handle. Externally, it's just been another normal morning, but this feeling is something that I can't quite exorcise just yet. Of course, I'm aware that these things are temporary; whether it's a heat wave or some change in the air pressure, it's all just another flash in the pan. And yet, I still have to sit here and process it, otherwise it'll stay in my head and make me its prisoner. As I've said before, I loathe not knowing how I'm going to wake up in the morning. Everything in life could be going just fine, but then these demonic impulses make their way in and try to assault me, leading me toward more sin and self-destruction. The only way the demons can get us to sin is through our express consent, and I can't believe I signed that contract as many times as I have. Still, today is a new day, and a chance to avoid dolling out another signature.
Aside from these impulses of anger, I've also been dealing with other somatic issues; namely, I've been dealing with a lot more nausea. I threw up my breakfast this morning, and I still don't feel very well. My arms and legs feel like noodles, and I can barely even stand up straight. On top of nerve pain, I can also feel changes in circulation; there are clogs in the pipes, and everything feels woozy and dissonant. But despite these physical maladies, the Lord gave me the opportunity to come here and write today, and I'm not going to waste that. I can't, because if I did, I'd succumb to that demonic influence yet again. In the same way that prayer is an alignment of the intellect, the same is true with writing; even though I do this for an audience, the only One I'm trying to write to is God.
I've spent an immense amount of time trying to align myself further with His will, and much of that time has been spent in trying to let go of my own impulses; restraint is the most important skill I need to cultivate. If I went about the world engaging in every impulse, every first thought that comes to my head, I'd be a much more hated person in my everyday life. In the same way I can tear myself apart in this writing, the same is true with other people. Most don't like to feel exposed in any way, and unfortunately this gift of rhetoric has made me enemies in the past. They'll assume I'm some kind of pompous and arrogant asshole for figuring them out, but I can't help having eyes, okay? Of course, I don't go out and make tons of assumptions, because most people—even if I can smell them out—end up surprising me in different ways.
One thing I can say for sure about myself is that I'm an excellent judge of character. Whether it's through a gut feeling or being able to put the pieces together through observing someone's actions—directly or indirectly—I've been known to predict who exactly is going to fall out and what for. Most of the time, I can't really explain that deductive process; as it's so clearly shown in my prose, the thoughts just come out automatically, and the only thing I really do is make the choice to accept those thoughts and see where they lead. However, in the same way that can be a strength, it can also be an immense weakness: opening myself up to anything usually invites mostly demonic presences. When I was younger and much more spiritually immature than I am now—which isn't by a large margin, by the way—I had such an insatiable curiosity for those metaphysical things that I ended up receiving more harm than anything remotely beneficial.
I would say that's mostly a result of having been exposed to those things from a young age, usually through means beyond my understanding and control. I'm not sure if I've told y'all about this dream yet, but it's probably the most important one I've had: my first one. When I was around five years old, I remember trying to fall asleep one night, and I felt like my eyes were closed and that I was still awake. However, I couldn't sense the bedroom I was in—just a black endless void. There were no discernible sounds I could hear either: no air conditioner whirring, no fan spinning. Suddenly, in this expanse of nothingness, a girl dressed like an American Girl doll appeared from the distance and began sprinting toward me. She ran right through me; I could feel her sprint right through what I realized was my translucent ephemeral body. Then, I saw what was chasing her: a large gray dragon with red eyes. It flew right into my face and jolted me awake.
I didn't get any sleep the rest of that night.
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