10 Wireframe examples for mobile apps and websites

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How do you buy back your soul? Can you buy it back once you sold it? Written in 2018. Things were a little different then, but maybe not. I have a particular Senator in mind. This is wishful thinking on my part.

How do you buy back your soul? Can you buy it back once you sold it? I sold mine for money and power. I’m a politician, a United States Senator. It doesn’t matter who I am, what my name is or which State I represent. All that matters is I sacrificed my honor, my integrity to stay in office. I sold my good name, my family’s good name to… to… to what? I sold who I am, who I was to vipers, liars, thieves, and other soulless men. They had money, and I needed money. I let them send me checks, many checks. Money to stay in Washington.

Their requests were modest, at first. I knew what was expected of me, and I did it. It wasn’t much. It may have been the right thing to do, but I didn’t ask, didn’t check. Doing their bidding became easier. I told myself everyone else was doing it. Why not me? Who was it hurting? It was hurting me.

I let them target my opponent and spread lies; I let them ruin a good man. Two good men and a woman. For 30 years, I took their money and looked the other way. I held my nose and stuck out my hand — I sold my soul. Now, I want it back, but how?

How do you undo what you did? How do you turn back the clock? I’m ready to retire. Is it too late? How do you become a good man again? I ask myself these questions every night. I get no answers. What should I do?

I go to rallies and get booed. I make an innocuous posting on Facebook and get flamed. On Twitter, it’s even worse. I’m pilloried for supporting our President, supporting programs I believe in, officials I believe in. I know he’s a fool, a dangerous fool, but he’s our President. He is our country.

“Is he?”

“What? Who is that?” I ask.

A laugh. “I’m your conscience, your long-ignored conscience. Soul-searching is the start, but only the start.”

“My conscience?”

“Yes, your conscience. You know the still, small voice within. Your parents gave birth to me. Your school and church nourished me. You used to listen to me. We used to be friends.”

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