Symbolica’s Confessions:
The Familiar
*(Written in 1995 at the age of 15)*
It’s been about three or four years since the destruction of my world. The evil emperor David had showed me how to bring the cream. I had almost stripped all of the clothes off of my friend Mike in Saint Louis while he was asleep . . . and he wasn’t bothered about it at all. I still, to this day, wonder if he wanted me to have that slight satisfaction, since I was in the land of Hell with my grandparents in Saint Louis and couldn’t have many other sexual advances available. Well, this is not how I intend to start my story, although the time period is the right setting.
My grandmother manipulated things so that I had to give away my stuffed animals and toys. For years, my stuffed animals had been angels to me. They were the witch’s familiars. We prayed and read the Bible together. Heck, we even had our own church where we would have a choir, guest speaker, and a fiery preacher. I would name most of them after close friends or people that I sexually desired. Of course, I did not desire these toys sexually, but yet they were my close friends. Well, some looked a little sexy, but that was because they resembled humans a lot.
One stupid, idiotic mistake I made was buying that cool G.I. Joe collector’s doll. His body resembled the shape of a gorgeous man (Reason 101 that girls give a darn about Ken dolls) with light brown hair in a buzz cut and creamy Caucasian skin. His underwear was molded on to his body, as if there were no such thing as a penis. I was disappointed about this detail because that meant that he couldn’t have a rightful affair with my Wilma Flintstone doll. So I just let my plush Garfield mingle with him. I was at my Aunt Marah’s house at the time. My Aunt Energetic and Grandmother were there.
Now, let me explain something about Garfield. He was my best friend back then. Most of my friends didn’t care jack shit about me, but they care about my Super Nintendo and my vulnerability. Garfield stood about a foot tall. I told him everything. If I asked him a question about a problem I was having at the time, he would give me some answer that would soothe me. But, yet, he was no god to me. I believed that he was a gift from God and a true friend. He had never harmed me, as was the case with the rest of my toys. Yet, when I had gotten this new doll, Garfield sensed something, but didn’t know what it was. It was our doom. I’ll tell you right now ahead of time that the new doll carried doom with it.
I was only twelve or thirteen when this happened. Supposedly, I was supposed to grow out of having and playing with toys and stuffed animals a long time ago. Bullcrap! Well my grandmother thought I did something with that soldier worse then the true story. She thought I had sex with it and stuck it up my butt, but this was not the case. Yet, I still possibly sinned. I undressed and dressed the doll from time to time, as the directions on the box told me to do. But I played with my toys in different ways than other children. I made science fiction soap operas and remakes of my favorite movies, like "A Nightmare On Elm Street." Well, here’s what I did. Here’s my true confession. I gathered my stuffed animals, or any one of the that was available, and pretended to have a sexual orgy with the soldier. We only massaged each other in sexual strokes to get each other off. Can you imagine Garfield getting off on this? This kind of crap was the result of the porns that I caught my brother watching and the porns that my friends would pass around and I would watch ‘cause I was bored.
Somehow, my Grandmother came up with her wild idea, possibly because the doll had been undressed and left nude over night and he slept with Garfield and me. Well, a week or two later at my house, my cousin Maggot, who was two or three years old then, cried to get a hold of Garfield while we were watching a movie. Well, damn it, that kind of time was a special kind of time for Garfield and me. Gar (I often called Garfield Gar for short) and I always watched movies at home, sometimes alone or sometimes with other stuffed animals. We critiqued them together. Well, Garfield told me, this little screaming one is going to get her way. And boy, was he right. The rulers of the world sent me to my room, suicidal Nick, saying how I needed to give up that "damn thing" anyways. In the morning, my mom pulled me aside and asked if I had sex with that soldier toy because Grandmother suspected me of doing such a thing. Since I obviously, for many reasons, didn’t consider what I did as sex, I answered no. Then this long talk came in which I was told that to play with myself with my hand was alright, but to play with myself with toys was a dirty thing.
Then, my Closet of Deceiving Lights (when my book is published, you’ll know what the title means) brought about another question and a solution. I had to give up Garfield . . . to my cousin Maggot. When I had to give up another of my favorites in a manner of minutes, my Grandmother refused to take it so I gave Thomas the Little Tiger (named in memory after my old best friend who’s whereabouts were lost just a couple of years ago) to Cousin Maggot also. Do you think I was about to give up my second most powerful familiar who could manipulate the material world with almost as much power as Garfield? (I’m not trying to brag about Garfield’s power; it’s just the fact that Sir Jester the Second Most Powerful Familiar, formerly known as Sylvester from Looney Tunes, had only settled in his shell less than a year or two ago.) I hid Sir Jester in my closet so that no one knew where he was except me, till that brat Matthew tried to blackmail me when he found it. (I had finally convinced Matt that these familiars protected us like guardian angels, which they could have possibly been.) Eventually, I let Sir Jester go when my ambush to hijack Garfield back failed and Maggot convinced me that she did care for Garfield. I gave the soldier to Shadow, my younger brother, who was ecstatic to have another one to add to his collection. I finally realized that I could call my familiars from anywhere and they could leave their shells to be with me.
Since my farthest thoughts, my earliest memories, I remember and I know that I have always had the same sexual orientation. People think that you have to be dropped on your head or locked in a house with women for the majority of your life to become that way, but I was like this at birth. Of course, I’m not human. But the fact of me not being human cannot be used as an excuse for my nature or the nature of others like me, unless all of the parameters are studied. This world is so damn judgmental and pathetic. No wonder we make the aliens wonder about our nature, although their gender is determined by the spirit. (No, I do not feel that I should be female. I enjoy being male.) People write a religious book and put their own judgments in it without explaining the reasons for the judgments in order to execute certain groups (like witches, gays, and others), and then the same people say they come in the name of God who is love. Since longer than I know of, heterosexuals have had a hard time with trying to understand the fact that people can be born homosexual or bi-sexual. The bad thing about being bi is the fact that your sexual orientation alternates, depending on your state of mind. Well heck, I’m not even human so I don’t have to worry about that so much. Rather, I find women’s bodies desirable (just like any heterosexual man), but my mind and soul have a large respect set in them (it is out of my control; I call it my nature because a person’s nature is supposed to be set in him/her) in which I wouldn’t dare do any thing that might result in making them endure child-birth or the fact of me entering them. Because of this fact (and the fact that whatever I truly am, I am in human flesh now and must face and fight desires), I need to have something to tame me and why not have what most men call "unnatural" since no one is known to get pregnant or known to endure such pain as women do. Women’s breasts are not seen as toys to me but they are seen as details to add to their beauty, just like petals add to a flower’s beauty.
One thing that has pissed me off for years is the way women and men are portrayed on television. Women are seen everywhere in bras and panties, men are often afraid to take off their jeans or sweater (except for a lot of black men, since they’re so dark). Women are shown fully nude, men barely show their asses bare (except for a lot of black men, since they’re so dark). And tell me, do naked women really have sex with men while the men wear Levi jeans? I mean, the men just have it out of the zipper. Doesn’t that hurt at all? I think that men and women (you can tell me to go back to Hell now) should be portrayed equally in sexual ways or else they shouldn’t be portrayed sexually at all.
Basically, we Secretios are not sent here to breed in the first place, so we do not have a desire to procreate with the opposite sex. It is not a choice or preferation, rather it is our nature that is born in us. Does it seem right of a perfect God to make heterosexuals and make it alright for them to get a bit of heaven out of sex and then make homosexuals and tell them that they can’t have that bit of heaven with each other or else they’re going to Hell? Why make homosexuals at all? (By the way, there are animals that commit homosexual acts in a well populated, multi-gendered area.) These same questions have caused many people to curse God or disbelieve in God, thus living a life with no morals or not enough morals. I, fortunately having my suicidal head turned to the side for a moment, figured out that God is a personal God, the only God, and that God wants us to be true to our hearts. But we still need to worship and glorify God daily, we still need to be Christians (if you are still reading this, I am extremely surprised). In the horrible past, Christians drove people away from the Truth and Love with condemnations, the total opposite of what Christ wanted us to do. One unfortunate guy was born gay and he committed suicide because he thought and was told by Christians that he was damned to Hell (his mom wrote a book about it). What sort of nonsense are people creating these days? Christ died for everyone’s sins, not just heterosexuals’ sins. He died for those He loved, and Christ loved everyone.
Now, I obviously don’t care about your opinions on these subjects anymore if they conflict with the idea of peace. Some may respond, "But the Scripture says . . ." but remember that the Scriptures were inspired by the Divine One but were written by human hands. Look at all of the books of the Bible that are just being discovered today in modern times and the ones that were omitted from the Bible by humans because certain individuals voted them out. This is not a perfect world, only God is perfect. We still have people today who say the newly discovered books of the Bible aren’t really part of the Bible. Those people are quite ignorant. I don’t know about y’all but I want to hear God’s Word, the great things the Lord has done and is doing for his people.
Some will say I’m a false prophet. Well, the false prophet for years has been the persecuting spirit in Christians (the Holy Spirit is Love and we should do things out of true love). Christians who speak of love being in their hearts and yet say, "Death to the Indians, gays and pagans!" are all false prophets because they teach God’s Word and Love falsely.
With love and sincerity,
Symbolica