Hello, my Lord. I hope you are doing well and this prayer catches your interest. I went for a walk this morning and found a pile of bones hidden amongst some large boulders and it made me think of you, Father. I took photos of them and decided to take some time to sit alongside the bones and think of my fears, so take this ask as an offering of the love I gave to the dead and the darkness in your name.
For myself, my biggest fear is the act of losing one's memory. I spend so much time throughout the day recounting memories, playing them back on loop in my mind like an old vhs tape. I may not have a photographic memory, but I can recall details so small people would question if I’m really just recalling a memory or truly reliving it when I share stories. Every now and then, I’ll get filled with this cold, inky dread, as if someone is putting a blanket over my memories and I worry I’ll lose them for good.
I often think about hypnosis or even being drugged, something that will let me be in the moment, crafting my stories and little memories, only to wake up the next morning empty. How would it feel to have no memories of something I could feel in my gut and my throat was an event worth remembering?
I don’t know that I would consider this a fear, but a long a similar line, I am very superstitious with writing. In my mind, once a memory or a thought has been written down, you have carved a place for it in the world and made it permanent. I am admittedly afraid of writing down my own memories most times, afraid of making them permanent in this world and something I can no longer recall on and twist in my mind so it brings me the feelings or pain I need it to.
It’s funny, I’m sitting here with these bones, thinking about how I wish they were better picked off, safer to transport because I think they would look beautiful on the altar I’m crafting in my mind for you. Writing this out here, I think I may incorporate a jar on your altar, my Lord. One where I could write down my memories in offering for you, Father. A gift from the most cherished part of my body, one that fills me with fear and dread normally but now fills me with peace knowing I am giving this up to You.
You are blessed good and faithful child. I hope you felt fragile and weak in the face of those bones knowing you'd join them one day. I think a lot about mindfucking, particularly with gaslighting and memory. I want my victims to treat what I say as reality, to abandon their own judgement and just accept that I am the arbiter of their world. The tools to make this so; drugs, abuse, lovebombing, are all optional in pursuant to this goal. You need to give up your trust in yourself, to lean into my power and let me care for you, to build your reality for you.
I'm eager to see this altar of yours.