blacktop by julien baker but my dog's being needy

Jan. 13, 2026

I think that my family dog is a lot like the Catholic Church.

Both were things that my parents wanted as a part of their household as ways to "teach good character." Both- sometimes frustratingly so- demand the fruits of my labor as compensation. But, of course, the key difference is that I still visit my family dog on weekends.

I haven't called myself a Christian in a number of years, but I only recently stopped going to the Chapel near my house. I was always told it was 24 hours and I used to stop there sometimes on my way home from college or a gig. 11:30, 12 o'clock at night and I would pull into the parking lot, walk up the wooden ramp, and sit in the quiet presence of the Monstrance. Lately, it seems like the door is always locked any time I try to visit.

My mom keeps telling me to recognize where there are signs.

I stepped back from a Christian faith a while back. Back since before I started living openly. Before college and queer love and my friends in the Democratic Socialists of America. I stopped because, among many things, I think I recognized the finality of life? At least as much as I can at my age.

The way that I will one day no longer exist. That scary existential thought that I feel is most likely. Most true. And I decided, I think, that I want to make the most of this all in the meantime.

Just something a little more grounded to me... Maybe little more nuanced than damnation. Maybe damnation in its own right.

Regardless, I'm choosing to give tithings to my dog instead. Even if it is just a chunk of apple.

Listen to Sprained Ankle by JB- it's a good album for good people. With much love,

Margot