Thursday, November 6, 2008

American Christian.XI - Hurt

Everyone I know goes away in the end...


Stay awake for 48 hours and you'll have an idea of what it feels like.

Stay up all night and all day then try taking an all-night road trip across the Great Plains and you'll have an idea.

Our hero is going back and forth like a pendulum, or around in a circle, passing from spiritually-feeling high times to low times, and each pass around the circle, the highs get higher and the lows get lower.

"What am I doing wrong??!"

Everything works in the moment, but nothing is seeing him through the darkest hours of the night.

Pray away the sins…declare the victory over the darkness…

He feels no victory. All there is for him is words so oft-repeated they’ve attained cliché status. Words which once held great profundity drip from his mouth like sewage from a drain. He’s tired. He gets some beer and since he’s always preached against it and never actually drank any, it’s not long before he’s wasted and having a good old time. A kind-hearted, lonely citizen takes him home as he’s in no shape to walk. He doesn’t care about anything except not feeling alone anymore and the physical intimacy is closer than any “friendship” he’s ever felt. The next morning he’s dying inside, regretting everything he had done. He tries to pray but his fresh memories crash against the doctrine he’s imbibed and he flees from God’s presence in shame. A tear falls to the temple floor…

Our hero runs back to the bedroom only to find his benefactor with someone else; how easily he is replaced.

"It’s no big deal, honey; just go find somebody else."

For quite some time he relishes the anticipation of finding “somebody else.” The realities of pleasure and sexuality which were denied and repressed in worship, yet furiously and dangerously ignited in other realms soon fade and he finds himself numb. The desire for contact has gone from that to hunger, to voracious appetite, to all-consuming; and now he can not be satisfied. He begins acting out of habit, because there’s nothing else to do.

Strangely enough he remembers when “Awesome God” was the best song he had ever heard and he tries to sing it now, but a significant degree of potency is lost. He puts a pill in his mouth, swallows with some assistance from J.D., and the same psychedelic dream starts all over again.

He wonders if he’ll see the gnomes this time…

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