Confessed sins are those that we most delight in.

I sit in my bed, my eyes closed to the outside world. This is the world to which I belong; a world where on can think freely. So my mind traipses past its various fancies, occasionally stopping on a favored thought but never lingering for too long. There is nothing definite in this world, and I appreciate it. I do not have to be anything to anyone (unless I truly want to be). As my mind continues to meander, I can feel slumber slowly grasp me. I am pulled into another world much farther away than anything I know of. I place my faith in the smokey billows on semi-consciousness.

I am lying in bed, my eyes close as though bracing against something. I am in nothingness; completely committed to my thoughts. There is a world outside of me, but it no longer matters. This time- my sleep- is for pure selfishness. I do not have to obey; I do not have to care; I do not have to be. Perhaps I am wretched for delighting in such egotism, but I will not stop. Let this peacefulness be my downfall...

I sit in bed as I rub my eyes languidly. Even though I am out of my selfish world, I am happy to be awake. My sinfulness can leave me sated for only so long. I am ready to awaken and confess my sins to the world. I am ready to be their refuge again.