S To the I To the N

the pinion of penetration which is pounded into your skull at birth if you are ever so lucky enough to be born into one of those families which hold the instrumental notion of guilt production throughout a life to be one that is of utmost importance comes slamming down into the side of your temple--- that loud unmistakeable CLANG of the iron hammer hitting the spike is like a quick flash, a strobe of unidentifiable light, something that ufo sighting squawkers remark about, something that those caught in a lightening storm insist upon in their detailed descriptions & your whole life is scarred, singed & sliced up into little unalterable pieces of slavery, bondage & oppression of the mind & body, until that fine day upon which you yourself decide to burn the whole basket o’ lies in a huge bonfire that will be seen from the homes of believers for miles & miles" only then will you be free. originally, the aramaic root “sin” coming from “sinai,” or “the wilderness of dirt” describes filth, and was only later morphed by the judeo-christian warpers of history to mean wrong actions & wrong thoughts--- basically, anything that hasn’t been already decided by hypocrites who assure us of their “holiness.” for those that abide by everything that they have been told by everyone who has already established the status-quo of the monotheisms of the world, tip-toeing through life is an art that can be learned through the ability to attribute all your hopes, dreams, successes & failures to a master which you have never met, which has already mapped out every step that you will take, and whom will judge the validity of your every motivation, penalizing you with eternal damnation, etc. if you swerve only a smidgeon to your left or right of that straight line of which you had absolutely no say in drawing.