Ch-ch-ch-changes?

I have already grown tired of the rigid daily features I imposed upon this blog and am hard at work thinking of changes I'd like to make. Stay tuned for a new and improved version of Sarah Rainone is not for sale, now with more guest stars and less OCD (at least when it comes to features).

Tomorrow expect to have your mind fucking blown (sorry, I watched the season finale of Eastbound and Down last night and it's quite possible I'll be channeling Kenny Powers for the next few days) by an original short story about mogwais and muses.

And as for today, it's the first installment of "Are you a cold-blooded killer with a case of amnesia or a lapsed Catholic who just can't shake the years of religious indoctrination?"

You wake up in a cold sweat. Your jaw is aching, probably cause you'd clenched it really hard before falling asleep the night before. You could not fall asleep because you felt so guilty about what you'd done that day that you felt the need to replay the entire day over and over again in the hopes of doing the right thing this time. But no matter how many times you try to mentally undo what you did, it stays did.

When you roll your tongue along the sides of your mouth you discover two thin lines of raised flesh from having chomped down on your cheeks while sleeping. You feel a growing sense of existential unease. You have wronged someone and you know it. But who? In your dream, you either cheated on your husband, took some kind of psychotropic drug, missed an important meeting, cannot remember your locker combination, or accidentally insulted a good friend. It's just a dream, sure, but you are still a terrible, terrible person. The only thing that can stop the voices from telling you what a selfish waste of space you are is to drown them out with the lyrics to something you'd memorized long ago either by choice or by force.

Some days you invoke Nas or Guru and run through the lyrics of "It Ain't Hard to Tell" or "Mass Appeal" over and over again just like you used to do during cross-country races to make up for lack of Walkman. Other days, your mind won't let you choose. It's The Lord's Prayer whether you like it or not.



Q: Are you a cold-blooded killer or just Catholic?

A: Just Catholic.