What captivated me most was that the town was soundless. They say time moves in a circle and that, at our core, our souls are eternal. I could only believe this once the moon and two red suns rose in the blackened sky. There was never a time I doubted the majesty of God, but there were plenty of nights when the devil spoke thunder in the underground. This was the hardest part of the mathematical equation that holds the universe together.
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God came to me in the night
In a reverie glowing with love
She said the anxieties of the world
Are human manifested
Inside a cauldron of confusion
But if we move beyond
The duality of black and white
See the goodness amid the bad
New colors burst, evoking
Interpersonal landscapes
Where sin is but an echo
That has faded and worn
And the interconnection
Of all beings, flows at the core
Of our weary, tired souls
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God is a cosmic vending machine that dispenses whatever we want. He is a genie that grants us three chances to get revenge. He will not hold us from suffering. God will not hesitate to kill us if we do not listen to the frenzied singing of his various devils in our world.
Look around you. Do you see that red glint in the eyes of your lover? Do you see the steam rising from the hole in the ground? Do you hear the wolves howling at your front door? Do you think God is merciful? The last time I checked, God was eating away at my insides, and He whispered in my ear that he would tear my body to shreds and spit me out into the cosmic void.
God is part Rapture, a part Fiend. God is everything you don’t know, will never know, and can never know. The fear of the unknown, the churning disorder of your terror attacks. God is the most dreadful face you have ever seen. God is reading this right now and is planning his attack. God called me on the telephone and told me he hated me. God does not exist. God is everywhere. God is in the in-between spaces. God is a ball of fire. God is a murderous homeless man.
God is not this, nor is he that.
Thank God for this prayer. Thank God for the times you left home and didn’t go back. Praise God for the weeping of the saints. Let God know you love him every time he punishes you. Say a prayer for the meek that will inherit the alien planets, and then set fire to your house and dance on the ashes.
Meet me at the cell block
Where G-d is in the penitentiary with the lifers
Where she says things that make no sense
And hears things only she understands
Meet me in the garden of night
Where G-d is listening to the lovers
Where her whispers caress the tree boughs
And she lights up the starry night sky
Meet me in the desert
Where G-d is with the solitary man
Where she conjures images only he understands
And laughs with each gust of wind
Meet me at the abandoned house in the city
Where G-d is with the junkies
Where she watches over tearfully
As they shiver in the winter cold
Meet me anywhere
Where G-d stays hidden behind the veil
Where she exists in the in-between
As she cries, rejoices, sings, and laments
She is what we cannot know
Will never know
And can only imagine with
A finite mind
In an infinite world
A cold ground and thunder rumbling outside. All darkness at first and no memory of how I’d gotten here. Chilly air and damp.
I called out into the darkness but got no response. I saw what looked to be an old Zippo lighter by my side. I used it to faintly illuminate the room.
I am in prison, but the cell door is wide open.
They say sometimes we have dreams like this, though they could be better called nightmares. Perhaps they are nightmares embedded within nightmares in the subconscious, sleeping world. I have no memory of my life; everything is a blank slate, pale and grayish. The only images playing in my mind are of shadowy figures like ghosts. Though I see no one in this prison, I hear echoes of voices. They’re whispers, so I follow them. They say, “You deserve this,” and “The time is now for your punishment.”
The prison is expansive, set up like a labyrinth. I walk through the corridors and rows of cells, lost. It feels as though I’m wandering in circles. I follow the echoes of the voices. “Come closer,” they whisper. The thunder continues to rumble outside, and brief flashes of lightning that illuminate the prison’s interior. The whispers turn to deeper voices like growling. Then, the barking of dogs, loud, deep barks from vicious chained-up dogs. I can tell they’re chained up because I hear the chains rattle in the nighttime air.
No moon in the sky outside through the windows. My eyes adjust to the darkness so I can see better, but there’s not much to see. Despite the sounds, there still appears to be no one here.
My stomach twists with anxiety. Goosebumps on my arms. The clanging of steel now sounds in the distance. Memories are coming back, not like a flood of them, but little pieces here and there. Memories of a physical struggle, of looking down into the ashen face of a pale man on the concrete. His eyes are the purest light blue, and his smile is devious. He says, “Kill me, you bastard.” Memories of me holding a handgun and the steel’s coldness in my hands.
But it’s all mixed up. The man is on the ground, and his face has changed. The skin is green now, and the tongue is reptilian. The eyes are a deep yellow, and the teeth are sharp like fangs. There’s a crowd encircled around us, watching, cheering. There’s my mother crying, my dead father sleeping and levitating.
I am still walking the prison corridors, listening to noises. When I hit a dead end, the walls start closing in. Just when it appears as if there’s nowhere to go, a heavy door opens and hits me with a blinding red light.
Standing there behind the door is GOD.
But it is now how I imagined GOD would look.
He is a black, nebulous creature with wings. He has no face to speak of, and his body is not humanoid. It is more like a reptilian bird. I know this is GOD, though, for some reason. Something tells me it is.
I wait for the thing to speak while it flaps its wings. Then, the creature, GOD, opens its terrible, cavernous mouth and lets out the most horrible sound I could ever imagine. It blows me backward and pierces my bleeding eardrums until it makes me deaf and mute. The sound continues unabated, and the pressure in my brain keeps getting worse until it suddenly stops.
Everything is in complete darkness again. A garden has formed in this small room, filled with radiant blue flowers. A garden of the night within the prison walls. I fall asleep, I think, but I awake in the garden again.
There is no escaping this place. This is my home now, for eternity. Whatever punishment must come, it doesn’t matter. Whether I am cursed or blessed, I do not know. I know nothing anymore. Nothing but pain.
The End
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Digital dream skull
God’s in the machine
And he hates us
Hunger for ruin
Blind force to destroy, conquer
An angry God screams
I’ll see you on the other side
Where God makes all things right
After the destruction
Comes the everlasting light
All the things we’ve done
The good and the bad
Are unified and made whole
At last, we understand
“If we cling to belief in God, we cannot likewise have faith, since faith is not clinging but letting go.” – Alan Watts, from The Wisdom of Insecurity
Continue reading “Daily Quote: Faith is Letting Go”
