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My Fragmented Soul (How I became Lord Voldemort in a Good Way)

I have always found it easy to make friends. I am not sure exactly why but it may be because with me what you see is pretty much what you get. I tend to wear my personality on my sleeve or much like pasta sauce during a white shirt day, everywhere possible.  It may not be obvious but these days but when you come across me I may not be entirely there, but you won’t notice anything missing.

There are many theories about the existence of the soul and while I am no theologian much less an avid church goer, wait for it , listen, there , a sigh from the heavens, I do have my own theory about the soul. Mine to be specific.

I have spent a good deal of my life not living it in one particular place most of the time. Being a road warrior these days has taken that to the extreme. In each locale that I have lived I believe I have left a little bit of my soul with those who touched my life in the places I have called home. Why else would I feel comfortable in all of those places and sad to leave each and every one of them.

My time in my current location is drawing to an end and while I will be happy to get back home I will be a little bit sad leaving friends behind. Not too sad though. I will be leaving another bit of my soul to keep them company.

If it’s true that your soul goes on when your mortal coil has spent its last earthy moment, then mine will go on in many places.  Some say your soul is called to another stage of life.  If mine does move on , then it’s probably going to take quite a while to get there in its entirety. I figure if I have lived my life the way I want to, there will be a few hundred pieces that will need to be collected.

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3 responses »

  1. My soul is more like Voldemort’s. My soul becomes bitter and dies each time I move. I have a hard time making friends and it sucks each time I leave. So hard to stay in contact…

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  2. This entry got me wondering: If a) my soul exists and b) my soul has weight and c) that weight is one pound and d) every time I leave a place I leave one ounce of my soul behind, what happens when I leave the sixteenth place? Do I become a soulless monster whose sole purpose is spreading human misery, or do I implode, or something else?

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