Sadistmusings Reblog account

Of course the statement seems obvious, I’m calling him my God. The recipient of all my worship, the one being I owe my everything to. But it’s so much more than that for me..

I was raised extremely religious. I was taught that my love for God should come above all else, that my devotion should be unwavering. I was taught that given the choice between a bullet to the head, and denouncing my lord, I am to choose the bullet every single time. Some of my earliest memories are centered around worship, praise, and utter devotion.

But something never felt right.. my worship always felt half hearted, my praise was so blatantly performative, and my devotion was diluted by my doubts. Spoiled by lack of faith.

I recall explaining all of this to Master, telling him how when I began worshipping him, I had finally understood what religion was supposed to feel like. I finally understood what I was supposed to be feeling every Sunday at church, or when I hit my knees to pray at night. I finally get it…