I Would Kill You
I was serenely walking when a religious song came to my lips. It sprung forth with the harmony that composes so many religious songs. It was not me, not this sworn atheist, but it was a me which had never spoken before and was now demanding the floor. Singing with the certainty of faith which is endemic to Christians, it spoke to god with out the costly middle man known as the church. Its voice, now my voice, was swimming in a sea of pain, Feeling the fires of hell, crying the tears of doom! It found truth in this Chaos, a truth which perhaps the real me feared to see. The horrible truth And as truth knows horror I wanted to hide.
God was listening that was Obvious, faith had forced him to and the answers though not words came clear Into my mind. Why did you send me here? Where was I before here? Why do I not remember? Was I happy or sad? You didn't let me choose to come here; I don't remember Your request! You just sent me here to suffer and to feel suffering while you stayed in heaven and, certainly, also in hell, for who else but you Could be the devil. Its too late now, is it not? Now that I am here away from you. Were I there, would I be a threat to you? Is that why I am here, did you fear me near? Was I like you or you like me? When you sent me here Was it your choice? Oh, no! Perhaps you were obeying a higher order, a law You could not yield; then why do we call you god if you are not the master of the universe, its exterior and their extremes?
Wait, I see your soul, it suffers too, you cry, you love, you've made an error, you sent us here. You hurt more than I, your intensive pain is the mother of all suffering, your mistake the product of this tragedy; and so you crucified your self in mortality, as you must do so every instant your thoughts remember the first day. In the beginning there was nothing, but you brought light and we could see the horror that was there to be seen. So now you beg me for love really begging me to forgive you, to forgive the misery you birth me into without my consent. And you must fear that I will not pardon your sin. You ask me to turn the other cheek, telling me to love because you are aware that if I saw you, I would kill you. Remember, did you forget? Every impostor that comes here I've crucified, so don't you dare come here, I do not wish to be a murderer!
You did say you would return after running like a coward from your tragedy. But you could not face the truth, you could not accept the risk of Coming back, so like an eager piranha I pray for your return, I wait for answers and you, sick fellow, do not dare to satisfy my hunger. In the mean time I aspire to be good so that I may be saved and allowed through the gates of heaven, and I want in because once inside, I will turn and kill God! Because I don't want to love God, but to be him, indeed that is why Atheist hate you. Because you are what they wish to be.
And suffer you do with pity for all these souls which faith holds for your return. Again, asking that I forgive you, you've claimed to have sent me your son out of love for me when it is you who should have appeared! Your great vanity forgets it's you who demands and needs love, for I am learning to survive with the suffering your naive heart can not bear. I will soon have no need Of love. I have discovered substitutes here for that, I lose my self in them and soon I won't have to seek my lies because they will be my truth. Yet I Won't forget the martyr that you are which compelled me to lose my soul rather than bear it. You've made me carnal through pain too great for my spirit and though I do not comprehend in the future of social momentum buried under the lost ruins of all of humanity's souls, we or one of us will recognize the message you came to leave. When you selected to die on the cross, it was not out of love for humanity, but out of love for your soul. Your message was not for life, for life was your greatest of errors an Invention you could not prevent. A disease you created out of nothingness, which nourishes itself epidemically procreating on brief moments of pleasure; it ignores the hospitality of the spirit and abandoning it, it Kills it. You, who knows what only the inventor can know, told us that death was the answer, that we had to kill ourselves as you did in order to find our spirits.
Of course, remaining true to your coward nature you could not commit suicide, thus, not only did you demand of us to love you, but also to kill you! Our passion was great enough so that we could overcome ”ourselves”, and to save you from this misery, we personalized your cross and called ourselves your killers! Indeed we were your saviors, for did we not save you from living like us? Did we not immortalize you and have we not loved you by living and learning to love this life you gave us? A life that had we any dignity we would abhor!
How long can this continue? Your message was read and we are trying to kill ourselves. Throughout the human conscious there is this internal self destruct, self hate mechanism which constantly hunts us. We incessantly challenge death praying, hoping that through some heroic gesture our hearts will stop! Yes, we still believe, like you, in the honor of letting another kill us, we know not of the true honor of suicide. Slowly we are winning the race, the odds against us are increasing, life's waged a battle, but the arsenal is begging to be used. Our earth, our minds are both being poisoned and soon we will all be next to you, like a virus that tires of eating its own. Yes, in the end there will be justice not because there is a God but because there is revenge! We will infest you with our illness because it is now evident the cage of earth will not contain us, the universe too, will be our victim, and do not think to hide in hell for not even hell will be safe! And this will be your greatest of sins for you should have destroyed us in the garden where there were only two.
But you need not fear all of us, there is one human some where who is not doing any killing, who bares the pain, and lives the horror. He is killing himself, unlike you he is not afraid to expose the wound. His dignity not having abandoned him gives him the strength and courage to injure his own heart; thus murdering the only criminal that he can know, the only liar he can recognize. For any one that wants to shed blood must realize that he is the illness, thus he must shed his own blood first. Much Like a tumor whom, if objective, could observe that it is the disease, so it ought take the dagger and endlessly plunge it upon its own veins. By killing itself the tumor seduces the killing and if not the result is the same, once the host is dead so is the tumor, suicide simply speeds the inevitable.
And don't we always at last kill ourselves? So now you should only fear those that do not kill them selves, for the others do not allow assassins to smear their hands with brothers blood; nor do they wait for the poison you created which is so slow and painful we call It age. We are not fools! You placed the apple tree there as an antidote for the virus of life. We would have lived for ever had it not been for the poisoned apple, and we thank you for that! But though every year age makes us victims, the medicine is not effective enough. So we now take it into our own hands, thus making ourselves spirits, spirits who must hate the inventor of life!!
This fellow was definitely in need of some antidepressants, I was mortified by his presence and his thoughts, I had a lump in my throat the size of a giant grapefruit, how could he exist in such a horrible self? Adriana, as if reading my thoughts spoke to me, “I have taken the time to listen to him often, and I have wondered if he would be more miserable if there were not a god? He is both calm and tempest because of god, and by he’s own admission this god thing is the sacred beast that took two immortals and divided their immortality through copulation into many lives. So God was able to arrest an immortal existence by creating humanity. Mortal reproduction under this sort of judgment becomes the only alternative to an immortal life, you can’t kill the tree of life, but you can dissipate its pain by making a portion of eternity mortal and so from the fall from the garden springs the birth of hope, finality!”
Adriana was brilliant her understanding made it easier for me to embrace preposterous ideas, I accepted that, we grabbed each other by the hand and walked on knowing that we were the mere mortality of two immortals, and maybe religion was more friendship than anything else. As we walked I pondered our earthy God and thought him a devil.
God was listening that was Obvious, faith had forced him to and the answers though not words came clear Into my mind. Why did you send me here? Where was I before here? Why do I not remember? Was I happy or sad? You didn't let me choose to come here; I don't remember Your request! You just sent me here to suffer and to feel suffering while you stayed in heaven and, certainly, also in hell, for who else but you Could be the devil. Its too late now, is it not? Now that I am here away from you. Were I there, would I be a threat to you? Is that why I am here, did you fear me near? Was I like you or you like me? When you sent me here Was it your choice? Oh, no! Perhaps you were obeying a higher order, a law You could not yield; then why do we call you god if you are not the master of the universe, its exterior and their extremes?
Wait, I see your soul, it suffers too, you cry, you love, you've made an error, you sent us here. You hurt more than I, your intensive pain is the mother of all suffering, your mistake the product of this tragedy; and so you crucified your self in mortality, as you must do so every instant your thoughts remember the first day. In the beginning there was nothing, but you brought light and we could see the horror that was there to be seen. So now you beg me for love really begging me to forgive you, to forgive the misery you birth me into without my consent. And you must fear that I will not pardon your sin. You ask me to turn the other cheek, telling me to love because you are aware that if I saw you, I would kill you. Remember, did you forget? Every impostor that comes here I've crucified, so don't you dare come here, I do not wish to be a murderer!
You did say you would return after running like a coward from your tragedy. But you could not face the truth, you could not accept the risk of Coming back, so like an eager piranha I pray for your return, I wait for answers and you, sick fellow, do not dare to satisfy my hunger. In the mean time I aspire to be good so that I may be saved and allowed through the gates of heaven, and I want in because once inside, I will turn and kill God! Because I don't want to love God, but to be him, indeed that is why Atheist hate you. Because you are what they wish to be.
And suffer you do with pity for all these souls which faith holds for your return. Again, asking that I forgive you, you've claimed to have sent me your son out of love for me when it is you who should have appeared! Your great vanity forgets it's you who demands and needs love, for I am learning to survive with the suffering your naive heart can not bear. I will soon have no need Of love. I have discovered substitutes here for that, I lose my self in them and soon I won't have to seek my lies because they will be my truth. Yet I Won't forget the martyr that you are which compelled me to lose my soul rather than bear it. You've made me carnal through pain too great for my spirit and though I do not comprehend in the future of social momentum buried under the lost ruins of all of humanity's souls, we or one of us will recognize the message you came to leave. When you selected to die on the cross, it was not out of love for humanity, but out of love for your soul. Your message was not for life, for life was your greatest of errors an Invention you could not prevent. A disease you created out of nothingness, which nourishes itself epidemically procreating on brief moments of pleasure; it ignores the hospitality of the spirit and abandoning it, it Kills it. You, who knows what only the inventor can know, told us that death was the answer, that we had to kill ourselves as you did in order to find our spirits.
Of course, remaining true to your coward nature you could not commit suicide, thus, not only did you demand of us to love you, but also to kill you! Our passion was great enough so that we could overcome ”ourselves”, and to save you from this misery, we personalized your cross and called ourselves your killers! Indeed we were your saviors, for did we not save you from living like us? Did we not immortalize you and have we not loved you by living and learning to love this life you gave us? A life that had we any dignity we would abhor!
How long can this continue? Your message was read and we are trying to kill ourselves. Throughout the human conscious there is this internal self destruct, self hate mechanism which constantly hunts us. We incessantly challenge death praying, hoping that through some heroic gesture our hearts will stop! Yes, we still believe, like you, in the honor of letting another kill us, we know not of the true honor of suicide. Slowly we are winning the race, the odds against us are increasing, life's waged a battle, but the arsenal is begging to be used. Our earth, our minds are both being poisoned and soon we will all be next to you, like a virus that tires of eating its own. Yes, in the end there will be justice not because there is a God but because there is revenge! We will infest you with our illness because it is now evident the cage of earth will not contain us, the universe too, will be our victim, and do not think to hide in hell for not even hell will be safe! And this will be your greatest of sins for you should have destroyed us in the garden where there were only two.
But you need not fear all of us, there is one human some where who is not doing any killing, who bares the pain, and lives the horror. He is killing himself, unlike you he is not afraid to expose the wound. His dignity not having abandoned him gives him the strength and courage to injure his own heart; thus murdering the only criminal that he can know, the only liar he can recognize. For any one that wants to shed blood must realize that he is the illness, thus he must shed his own blood first. Much Like a tumor whom, if objective, could observe that it is the disease, so it ought take the dagger and endlessly plunge it upon its own veins. By killing itself the tumor seduces the killing and if not the result is the same, once the host is dead so is the tumor, suicide simply speeds the inevitable.
And don't we always at last kill ourselves? So now you should only fear those that do not kill them selves, for the others do not allow assassins to smear their hands with brothers blood; nor do they wait for the poison you created which is so slow and painful we call It age. We are not fools! You placed the apple tree there as an antidote for the virus of life. We would have lived for ever had it not been for the poisoned apple, and we thank you for that! But though every year age makes us victims, the medicine is not effective enough. So we now take it into our own hands, thus making ourselves spirits, spirits who must hate the inventor of life!!
This fellow was definitely in need of some antidepressants, I was mortified by his presence and his thoughts, I had a lump in my throat the size of a giant grapefruit, how could he exist in such a horrible self? Adriana, as if reading my thoughts spoke to me, “I have taken the time to listen to him often, and I have wondered if he would be more miserable if there were not a god? He is both calm and tempest because of god, and by he’s own admission this god thing is the sacred beast that took two immortals and divided their immortality through copulation into many lives. So God was able to arrest an immortal existence by creating humanity. Mortal reproduction under this sort of judgment becomes the only alternative to an immortal life, you can’t kill the tree of life, but you can dissipate its pain by making a portion of eternity mortal and so from the fall from the garden springs the birth of hope, finality!”
Adriana was brilliant her understanding made it easier for me to embrace preposterous ideas, I accepted that, we grabbed each other by the hand and walked on knowing that we were the mere mortality of two immortals, and maybe religion was more friendship than anything else. As we walked I pondered our earthy God and thought him a devil.
posted by Ricardo Correa at
1:29 PM
