Tuesday, March 31, 2015

“The body that is sown is perishable, it is raised imperishable; it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power; it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body.” – 1 Corinthians 15:42-44

The dim sunlight peeking through the windows blinded Clive, angry that he gave half the day to last night.

“I hate hangovers.”

It’s been a long time since I’ve felt tears. A long time since the taste of salt has been so much as to force me to try and cover it up with liquid preoccupation. A long time since I’ve felt the never ending droll of pain caressing the inside of my temporal lobe.

Why did it happen? I’m not supposed to have weaknesses. I’m a fucking demon.

Not anymore.


Don’t you get it? When God sent himself to earth he gave up his divinity. That was the whole point.

What does that even mean?

Wow. Look who the clueless one is now… It means that when you left hell and were born into me you left behind your divinity. Your power, your apathy… it’s all gone. You can now have desire, fear, remorse…

What could I possibly desire?

I think that’s something only you can figure out big guy.

This doesn’t make sense. Go away Clive. I need to think.


I walk back to the asylum. That’s where this whole thing started yesterday.


Still there in big, bold, blue letters. Redemption. What could that mean?

Moving in closer I saw something painted much smaller underneath it:

How you have fallen from heaven,
    morning star, son of the dawn!
You have been cast down to the earth,
    you who once laid low the nations!
 You said in your heart,
    “I will ascend to the heavens;
I will raise my throne
    above the stars of God;
I will sit enthroned on the mount of assembly,
    on the utmost heights of Mount Zaphon.
 I will ascend above the tops of the clouds;
    I will make myself like the Most High.”
But you are brought down to the realm of the dead,
    to the depths of the pit.” – Isaiah 14:12-15

Staring, I feel as though those words envelop me. I understand now. This feeling has been guilt. Guilt has riddled me since I was born out of that coma. But how do I stop it? How do I gain redemption?

Confession, Repentance, and Death. 


            You’ve experienced the divinity of God. Your pride caused you to feel inadequate and declare war on God. Then you fell. People say that God doesn’t pick favorite but he does. Lucifer was his favorite. It’s been a long time since you’ve heard that name hasn’t it? Then God declared His Son Christ as being equal to God Himself. Lucifer became envious and Lucifer’s envy of Christ caused him to act irrationally. But God was not all forgiving back then was he?
            When he fell, Lucifer became spiteful towards God. He began travelling the Earth, searching for wrong-doers and tempting the children of God. Years passed by and Lucifer began to change. He forgot his own name and bored the name given to him by the Jews. “Satan” or “Adversary.” He engulfed himself in flame and began taking and punishing any of God’s children he could tempt to stray. He became totally disconnected with God and yet in this dissonance, he became one with God.
Now you have come here to Earth once again. And in this place you have found a new calling. A new plan for yourself.

But I was supposed to end this world. Not be changed by it.

You came here to ask for forgiveness. And it is not unobtainable. God is no longer as unforgiving as he used to be.

Who are you? You don’t sound like Clive. Where’s Clive?

Clive is safe. He is with his family. Don’t worry about him. He is happy.

Wait… Does that mean you’re…?


I wake up to the sunlight streaming in through my window. Was I just visited by… No… Why would He? Clive?

No response. Well I guess I have to find redemption now. But how? What was it He said? Confession… Repentance… and… Death. Death. That’s it. I need to die. I need her.

Time passes as I sit and wait for her. The radio tells me it’s been a busy day so I know she’ll be blaming me.

The air felt electric. I knew she was coming.

“Welcome Catherine,” I say right after she rudely busts my door down. That was some nice mahogany. “I’ve been anticipating this moment for some time now.” I wait a few minutes for an apology and some compensation for my very expensive and exotic door. It never comes. That bitch. “I am here. In the Kitchen. Come and join me at the table.” I love talking like Yoda whenever she’s a round. Especially because I know she doesn’t get the reference. “This is where Judas sat. Arguably my biggest success, he was. Here he sat and schemed up the death of Christ.” Total bullshit. I never said a word to Judas. That man was fucked up all on his own. “Come. Sit and eat with me. Join me in the flesh and blood of Christ.” I pull out a huge tray of strawberry waffles and place it on the table.

The bitch didn’t even move. “Stupid bitch, I’m offering you a way out!”

“I’m Death! There is no way out of Death! Death is inescapable!”

I could feel my heart pounding. I guess this is what fear feels like. Despite my desire to die my human body still gave in to its natural Fight of Flight reflexes.

“THEN TRY IT BITCH!” I can feel her wrath rising. If there’s one thing I know how to do it’s manipulate people. “DO WHAT YOU CAME TO DO! You think yourself free from your own Plan? Haha! You idiot.”

That did it. It pushed her over the edge. She threw the table across the room. “Shit sugarlips! Don’t take it out on the mahogany!” She didn’t even say thank you for the waffles.

I could feel my blood pressure start to rise as she pulled a knife from I-don’t-even-wanna-know-where and charged at me. I felt an erection start to form in anticipation for my final breath. I closed my eyes. Braced for impact. For one glorious moment, I could taste victory.

But the knife never came. Then I came. I guess the irony of the whole situation was just to much for my penis to handle.

 I began to laugh. Partially because of the irony, partially because of my unexpected ejaculation. Whatever the reason, I started to bellow.

“You see Catherine? The Plan transcends any of us, and  most of all you. You are bound to your own works.” Unfortunately, my brilliance was shining through again.

Then, in order to keep up my fa├žade, to not show weakness, I wrapped my hands around her neck and pressed her face against the window.

“Look at the stars Catherine.” Then more to myself than her I said; “A testimony to God’s far reaching touch.” Then pretty much exclusively to myself; “God doesn’t want you. God doesn’t love you. One day you will see the real truth.”

I feel the tears start to well up. In a last ditch effort to hold onto my dignity I say; “You wanted to dance, Catherine. You wanted to play. Well here I am. Come back when you’re figured stuff out bitch.” And I threw her out my window.

Dammit. That was a nice window too.