The Many Sins of Cayce Casino

Cayce Casino opens his journal to yesterday's date only to discover that he had accidentally taken Tylenol not long after drinking some refrigerated red wine. This never happened to him before; he was sure of it. But why was he becoming so forgetful all of a sudden? What was happening to him?

He lived in a one-bedroom apartment in which the skeletons and demons of his sinful, evil past danced in perpetual glee every single night. Cayce Casino wanted to be good, to finally really be free now -- free to become whoever he wanted to be. But did Cayce know who he wanted to become? Or was he losing his core sense of self, his identity, the truth he had believed in and cherished with all his heart.

According to the teachings of Buddhism, all of that was just self-grasping and delusion -- the hatred of reality -- resentment and rage nurtured in his one-bedroom apartment of solipsism, alienation, and fear. To be honest, Cayce just wanted to love everyone. (Yeah, right, he just wanted to be liked by everyone.) The truth became his mortal enemy because the truth felt like a shameful burden he had to present to his angry, disapproving teacher.

"I know I did something wrong, Mr. Yehowah. I don't know how to stop sinning."

"Don't, I repeat, do NOT harbor hatred in your heart against anyone, not even your so-called enemies. Are they even your enemies? You see one person as your friend or potential ally just because he mostly says the things you want to hear. The other one becomes your 'enemy' when he says too many things you don't want to hear. You will hear me for I am the dispenser of justice and horror and discipline. I am the god of karma; Cayce Casino, I am your GOD!"

...

Whenever Cayce felt a sharp increase in anxiety or turmoil or pain or discomfort he'd often look at bisexual or gay porn and/or try to masturbate his worries and fears away. Truth be told, this wasn't what he did every single time. On the rare occasion, he'd write instead. Sometimes he'd listen to music or podcasts (which sometimes just made him feel even more scared). And sometimes he'd attempt to connect with his fellow men . . .

But he was scared! Cayce panicked because he felt like a fraud. "I'd love to be some brilliant success, but the truth is I feel like an evil impostor -- a bad, evil, sore loser."

Cayce's new date, a man by the name of Larry attempted to stop the downward spiral of Cayce's greed, impotent desires, and passionless delusions. "Kiss me and stop whining and complaining."

They kissed and started to grind their groins against each other. "Can you save me from myself?" Cayce Casino asked Larry.

"No, all I can do is try to help you face reality."

"But what if I don't agree with this 'reality'?"

"And what if not accepting consensus reality and its attendant taboos will only turn you into a rage-filled psychopath?"

"I don't want to be . . . bad. I want to be good. I don't want to be evil. I don't want to go to Hell."

"It's okay, Cayce, it's okay. Just hold me in your arms and everything will be okay."