Cultic Studies Review, Vol. 9, No. 1, 2010, Page 91
I start to listen. How shall I become pure? I will listen, I need them, I must not trust myself, I will only cause more
difficulties. I will listen. I must not think, I must simply do what they say, me, the little dot must do as they say…..
I cannot
little dot will go in the other room so they do not find me
but what if they do find out I am hiding there
they will kill me for good, what shall I do,
where shall I go…………
there is nowhere to go
They are hitting me again, shouting, telling me I am rebellious, disobedient, evil, bad, a
pollutant, every sin in the universe belongs to me
I am dying inside, shrivelling up
I find it hard to hide my little dot
I will try harder
I will do what they say
They are right, they must be right
I will tell them what a bad person I am, because it‘s true and they have always told
the truth—that‘s why they are here
They like it when I do that—when I confess how bad I am, perhaps that‘s the way out of
this deep, dark, dank, hell-hole—perhaps I will become all they want me to be and then
they will give me a handle to the door—if I confess—they‘ll accept me again—I will try
The hole gets deeper,
the faint heart beat is fainter now,
my body hurts,
the dot is shrivelling up
but
the little beat is saying
How can I get out?
how can I find life again?
and
as I question
I start to listen. How shall I become pure? I will listen, I need them, I must not trust myself, I will only cause more
difficulties. I will listen. I must not think, I must simply do what they say, me, the little dot must do as they say…..
I cannot
little dot will go in the other room so they do not find me
but what if they do find out I am hiding there
they will kill me for good, what shall I do,
where shall I go…………
there is nowhere to go
They are hitting me again, shouting, telling me I am rebellious, disobedient, evil, bad, a
pollutant, every sin in the universe belongs to me
I am dying inside, shrivelling up
I find it hard to hide my little dot
I will try harder
I will do what they say
They are right, they must be right
I will tell them what a bad person I am, because it‘s true and they have always told
the truth—that‘s why they are here
They like it when I do that—when I confess how bad I am, perhaps that‘s the way out of
this deep, dark, dank, hell-hole—perhaps I will become all they want me to be and then
they will give me a handle to the door—if I confess—they‘ll accept me again—I will try
The hole gets deeper,
the faint heart beat is fainter now,
my body hurts,
the dot is shrivelling up
but
the little beat is saying
How can I get out?
how can I find life again?
and
as I question
