Sex 205. Loving Death


Continued from Sex 204. Loving Hiss Elf

Me: Barkeep, another wine-and-gall, if you please?

Barkeep: One more Dead Galilean, coming up!

The bar is dark.
I feel like I’ve been stuck in a cave for three days.
The drinks taste awful, but they’re cheap.
All they cost is my soul.
Which I’m trying to get rid of anyway, since it stinks worse than these drinks.

Then HE comes in…

I feel rather than see Him slide into the seat next to me.
I refuse to look at Him.
But I can feel His eyes boring into me.

I slam 30 pieces of silver on the counter.

Me: BarKeep, another round for the house! And get my friend here whatever He wants.

The crowd cheers, always glad for someone to share in their misery.
The only real joy they have.

HE remains silent.
I still can’t look at Him.
I stare into the bottom of my briefly empty glass, as if it contains the secrets of the universe.

Me: Oh that’s right. You don’t drink this stuff. YOU didn’t need any opiates to go the cross. Well, I’m sorry Mr. Son-of-the-Most-High, I wasn’t begotten out of eternal cosmic energy like you. I’m made of dust and shit and flesh and blood, like the rest of the losers around here. So excuse me if I drown my sorrows in sex, drugs & rock-n-roll.

I see my glass is filled again. I empty it in one shot.

Me: I don’t care if you call it religion, civilization, or evolution. It’s all just one big stinking pile of lies. Make your parents proud. Make a man of yourself to impress the girls. Make money to look good to the neighbors. Make a dent in the universe. Make a name that will go down in history. Well to Hell with all of them. And to Hell with you!

I pick up my glass and hurl it at the mirror over the bar. It fractures with a sound like a rifle shot. The roar of the crowd stops like someone flicked an off switch.

I bury my face in my empty hands.
When I speak, it is barely above a whisper.

Me: I’m sorry. I just can’t do this anymore. I tried. I really tried. But I’m just not strong enough. I’m not… who You thought I was. Who I thought I was. I don’t care if You hate me. I know You must despise me. God
knows I despise myself. I think… I think it is best if You just leave.

Then I hear Him stand up.
And walk away.
And so does everyone else.

A bowling ball of shame and abandonment grows in the pit of my stomach.

Me: So this… is Hell.

Suddenly a voice speaks. Apparently the bar wasn’t as empty as I thought.

“Yes. Yes, it is. Have a drink.”

To be continued

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