Clean

I am sitting at a nice clean desk. For that matter my flat is in a relatively clean state. Does that mean I am clean? A pure soul? Perhaps not. My soul is never clean because I never clean the place where I live. It isn't my surroundings that I can find cleanliness but rather within the feeble cells of my body. Perhaps they are filthy with decay. I have neglected the place where I really live for the sake of what? Pride? Maybe I will be in a position to give myself a overhaul in the near future but as often is the case I will continue with the path of wretchedness.

Clean. What does it mean to be clean? Free from shame? Free from guilt? Free from the dusty old jacket that sits in the closet. Will I one day be clean? Is it important to be clean of body, mind and soul? Or is a general surface clean sufficient? Perhaps cleanliness must go deeper than wiping the dust off the surface, only then will the object of filth shine.