A Prologue in Darkness

So let me explain what this is. I’ve wanted for a long time to try and condense my thoughts about Christianity into one place, and I doubt it’s something that I could ever encapsulate within one project. But I’ve thought of an idea for a book, in which I go through the major points of the Bible and talk about my perspective on those stories and characters, and how they’ve influenced the world today, and basically just try and deconstruct Christianity, to understand something that has caused me so much heartache and which I feel is such a powerfully harmful force in the world.

Truthfully, I’ve always found most of Christianity’s central mythos incredibly uninspiring, at least when told from the point of view of God as the protagonist. There’s not a lot of magic and adventure, and it’s mostly concerned with farming and deserts. As for the players of the story, Satan is by far a more interesting character who seems to have a much more moral stance, and God consistently behaves in ways that are irrational and inexplicably cruel. Earlier today I wrote down a conceptual outline for the chapters of the book, with each chapter being focused around a certain character or character. For instance, chapter one would be called Adam and Eve, chapter two would be Satan, chapter three would be Cain and Abel, etc. And I could go chronologically through the Christian Bible and touch on the things that interest me and that I want to talk about. The final chapter would be focused on the central character of the Bible, God himself, and would cover the book of Revelation.

I started to get ideas for a prologue, starting the story out right before the creation of the universe, and treating God in the most sympathetic and compassionate light. I’m actually really quite proud of this so I’d love any feedback you may have.

The beginning is not the beginning. The beginning of all things is a mystery, perhaps forever unsolvable. We don’t even know that there was a beginning. But this story begins with a creature, a being who is alone, floating in the vast darkness of the cosmos, floating in nothingness. We don’t know what he looks like. We only call him “he” because it’s the way he will later refer to himself. Perhaps he is vaguely humanoid, with two arms and two legs, hands and feet, and a head fitted with eyes, ears, a nose and mouth. Perhaps he is curled, fetus-like, sleeping in the vast emptiness, dreaming in the dark womb of nothingness, waiting to be born into the cosmos. Perhaps he is a tiny speck, perhaps he is large and monstrous, and perhaps, like all of existence, he is void and without form.
Where did he come from? Does even he know? Is he the only being in existence, or is he a being left over from some previous existence? Was there an ending before all of this? Was there a cataclysm that destroyed the entire cosmos and reduced it to nothingness, leaving only this sleeping catalyst? Was the past universe like a plant that upon it’s death, drops seeds of new life, and this sleeping creature is that seed? What is the nature of this being? Does he have emotions, thoughts, desires? Does he feel pain or love, is he lonely? Is there anyone to equal him, a companion to share his existence with, another being like him? Could he even create another like himself if he wanted? Were there others like him once, and now only he is left?
Perhaps he unfurls his body, such as it is, and stretches his muscles and joints, such as they are. Perhaps he looks around and sees the nothingness. Perhaps he feels afraid. Did he have a mother or father? Did he have a family? Does he remember the answer to this question? Perhaps he looks behind himself, at that expanse of darkness that is the same as every other expanse of darkness. Does he see the past? Or is it as much a mystery to him as it is to all who come after?
Those answers will never come. The mysterious being closes his eyes and gathers his thoughts and emotions. He gathers everything he has, and prepares for one magnificent display, he prepares to create everything. He holds out his hands, and he opens his eyes and his mouth, and creation begins.
A vast explosion, a soundless cosmic bang, and all the light of all the stars and all the galaxies comes pouring from one point of light in the vast darkness, and that point of light is the being who lay in the darkness, and from him come planets and meteors and dust and fire, moons and nebula and molecules and atoms and cells and water, from him comes the infinitely expanding universe with it’s constants and it’s laws, it’s various physics and biologies, it’s planets of rock and mountain and ocean, and from him comes mathematics and science and future and past and magic and reason, pain and hope and love and loss and possibility and infinity.
He finds himself floating in a sparkling universe, still racked with the painful explosions that are it’s birth cries, he looks around at the terrified newborn cosmos, and he smiles, holds out his hands over a sphere of water and rock, and he opens his mouth to speak.

#128: Half Jack

“I see my father in my face
I hear him in my laughter
I run as fast as I can run but
Jack comes tumbling after.”

My resemblance to my father is actually very unsettling. Not only do I look just like him in the face, but I also have a lot of the same mannerisms, I have the same tone of voice, and it’s even weirder because I mostly grew up without him so I didn’t purposely adopt his mannerisms.

I really hate my father, and I try not to think about him most of the time, but there have been moments when I’m laughing and see my smile in the mirror, and when I smile I look exactly like him. And then my face will fall when I see the resemblance. And I’ll feel him underneath my skin, clawing and trying to get out, like a demon who’s possessed me, but he’s running in my blood and I can’t get him out.

The only thing you can try to do is make peace with it. There can’t be peace between my dad and me, so the best I can do is try not to hate him. It hasn’t worked yet, and I don’t know if hating does more harm than good for me. But sometimes hating him sustains me, and sometimes it hurts. I fantasize all the time about punching him in the face, about him coming up to me one day when I’m successful and I look him in the eye and tell him what a loathsome creature he is.

We’re never big enough to house the crowd. The people who’ve affected us, the good and the bad, live inside of us. Our love for them or our hate for them, both will keep them alive. They hurt us and they leave wounds, or they pierce us with love and they leave wounds, and either way we try and stitch the wounds up, but we let them in and the stitches pull apart.

Jack, or Greg, or whoever it is, he lives inside of us, and haunts us. I look in the mirror and see his face, and I know that I’m capable of the same evil he is, that I inherited his curse, his power, his intellect, his wickedness. I know that I can become the monster he is.

When I was a baby, my father stood over my crib, and he said to my grandmother that when he saw me laying there, so vulnerable and innocent, he wanted to hurt me, the same way his father hurt him. I think it was a brave thing for him to admit. I wish he had been brave enough to keep admitting the things he was afraid of.

When my dad was a young child, his father held him over a cooking grill and lowered his little feet onto the coals and burned them. His father put cigarettes out on his head. Is it any wonder he became a monster? Usually I hate him, usually I’m mad at him.

Sometimes I feel sorry for him.

My Jack was hurt by his Jack, and his Jack was probably hurt too. If I have a child, will I become Jack? Will I break them? Can I be trusted? Can I trust myself?

We carry multitudes. We exist and we exist and we exist.

Some days I’m half Jack, sometimes I’m only a quarter, some days he’s barely noticeable. I want to exorcise him. I want to get him out. But he’s always going to be there. And my body feels like an unclean temple, an unsafe place with no peace or privacy.

I keep hoping I can cleanse him away. I keep hoping the water is clean enough.

If I washed him out, would I still be myself? Is it better to cleanse ourselves of wickedness and lose the wickedness within us, to be empty even if what we’re missing in the darkness? Or do I make peace with it, do I forgive him, do I choose to love him because it’s the hardest thing to do, and it’s the bravest thing to do, and I can be brave where he was not?

I won’t say it to him. But right now, I love you. I’m choosing to love you because it’s the only way I can keep from being destroyed by you, dad. And I’m sorry for you. I’m sorry for what you’ve suffered. I’m sorry that you probably suffer now for what you did to me. I’m sorry that you destroyed me. I’m sorry even though I’m your victim.

Half of me is love, and half of me is hate. Two halves are equal.

I’m halfway home. I hope that home is love and safety. I hope that home is hope. I hope that home is a baby lying in a crib, and a Jack who doesn’t want to hurt him. Like my father, there’s a part of me that wants to consume and destroy everything. It’s the curse he passed down to me. It’s the black hole inside me that wants to absorb and rip apart everything I touch.

I have to be brave. I have to admit it. I can’t be afraid like my father was. I have to admit it so I can overcome it.

Brave enough to get this out. Brave enough to love. It starts with loving you, and then I can love myself because I’m not angry at you anymore. Loving you is not a one-time thing. It’s a journey. It’s a path toward forgiveness. I have not reached the end of that path. I don’t even know if I’m at the beginning. I don’t know if I’m halfway home.

But I hope I’ll get there.

Burning

Burning
I’m still mad at you and that will never change
I’ll always be shattered and you can’t maker it better
You could only disappear
I left you, stranger, and found my home
And I’ll never go back and you can die alone
Because I don’t want my mother, I don’t need her either
I don’t want my brother, he left without saying goodbye
And daddy didn’t have enough courage to stay
The bruises he left on my chest were all he had to say
I don’t believe in family because you abandoned me
You abandoned me, you abandoned me
You abandoned me
Daddy you didn’t have the courage to stay
You pointed a finger at everyone else
But when the lights were out and I crawled in your bed
It was me who received your kindness, wasn’t it?
It was me who felt your touch in the dark, wasn’t it?
It was me who you ripped to pieces with soft touches
Tt was my egg you cracked and my yolk you poured out and my body you claimed
And my heart you squeezed the blood out
White rooms, white sheets, white little boy with a white little soul
Deep eyes, dark hair, dad with a mission, to take and control
When I lay in my crib you looked down and turned to her and said
“I wish I could hurt him the way my father hurt me.”
I was so easy, wasn’t I? I was so easy
It was so easy to tell me lies
It was so easy to take me away
It was so easy to kick her out of the moving car
It was so easy to buy me a black baby doll
You said “Every little boy should have a nigger of his own”
It was so easy to stay home while she worked for you
It was so easy to tell me not to walk that way, or say those things, or move my wrist because that’s how gay people act 
and we’re not like that
But that was another lie too wasn’t it daddy?
It was so easy to grab me in the kitchen when no one was looking
So easy to try and place the blame on everyone else
The neighbors, the babysitters, but you knew who to blame didn’t you?
Daddy didn’t have the courage to admit what he did
Daddy left without a word in back of a police car and never came back
Daddy started a brand new family with a new little girl of his own
And there’s a picture of me in that house
But there’s a man there who knows that that child is gone
Take my shoes, but you can’t have my mind
Take my pictures, you can’t have my body
Take my memories, keep them I don’t need them anymore
Mommy didn’t have the courage to stay strong
Daddy didn’t have the courage to stay
Mommy didn’t care when she left me alone
In the woods with the man who had killed her the same
Daddy didn’t listen when I tried to say
He just told me I hadn’t fucked enough girls and I only thought I was gay
Mommy was a liar who pulled my hair
And daddy could have lied if he’d ever been there
Lies are all you gave me
And lies are all I’ll leave you with
Every “I love you” I said was a lie
And I know that I shouldn’t but I hope you both die
And I hope that the world can rest easy at night
Without either of those flags burning in my mind
Burn away, and let me forget
Let that little boy die at last
I wouldn’t go back if I could do it again
I’d rather have oblivion that live that life
You deserve each other, burn away
Burn away

The Father, The Son, and a Ghost With Holes

The Father, The Son, and a Ghost With Holes

The father the son and a ghost with holes

My brain is burning

I don’t forgive you

I don’t have to love you

I don’t want to honor you

I damn sure won’t forgive you daddy

I’m not asking going to ask why daddy why

Didn’t you just love me

‘Cause that is too plebeian

And I’m better than you’d  want me to be

Get out of my head

I haven’t heard your voice in sixteen years

Maybe in another forty

I can muster up some pity tears

When you are lying on your deathbed

Why should I come crying to you

What have you ever done

To earn a good night’s sleep

Just tell her sorry, wait you can’t

‘Cause she is dead

But you lived on inside her head

She couldn’t take the lord’s own dinner

With the memories of you in her

Die and let me live in peace

I don’t wanna think about you again

I don’t want to think of my sister

Wearing my exact same grin

I hate to see myself crack a smile

‘Cause I look just like you

You’ve robbed enough smiles

I won’t smile for two

I have got to love sometime

So quit your nagging in my skull

Let me go I’ll hate you

And we’ll come to an agreement father

When your father lowed your into the coals you died

You saw me in my crib and told her

You wanted to make me cry

The way your father made you

And your closet isn’t big enough for two

I can’t forget you ’cause you’re eating up my insides

Go away my father off into the other lands

And you’ll have death and I’ll have peace

But wait, I’ll never have that

Thank you for the broken soul the heart that doesn’t work

The body bruised the mind that’s scared the dick that’s tainted and most of all

The tongue that speakings of wanting to hurt

Wanting to kill wanting to destroy

You’ve gone and done it

And made me ill

But I was just a little boy

Goodbye father goodbye son

Goodbye ghost with holes