Page III

The Angel of Metaphysics

Could you teach me black magic? Because I know a few people that deserve a good suffering. And if there is a Hell, perhaps they could spend a little time there, if not an eternity. Flames would ignite the fuel of their selfishness as the malevolent spirits watch them burn.

I am no judge and unfortunately morality and ethics are rarely considered common sense. Compassion is not mandatory, nor is punishment. I suppose karma could exist on some surface level. Even scraped off the bottom of the gene pool, which I have always considered a basic form of Purgatory.

For whatever book people may follow, I get it. Men have built their chapels with intense height and I understand the reasons why. They are all very lovely tales and I appreciate the devotion towards sharing optimism, but I’m not about to ask for anyone’s patience. Perhaps I never took my methylphenidate on theological Saturdays.

Don’t you think I want to look at the clouds and see angels? Even now, when a little space has been cleared on my right shoulder. Blue eyes, round face, transparent hair. Kiss the sky stranger, there’s nothing to see here. Nothing but a shatter delusion of what humanity might have been. That percussionist showed little mercy of what’s left of my tired and weakened backbone, like a toneless battered xylophone.

So now is your chance, courter. Disregard our shared denial of the deity, perchance that mythical verse can conjure up one single truth. No need to wallow in the pain and sorrows of this conscience reality anymore. I will summon the durability to absorb this burden just long enough for you to make a swift escape.

Wide glassy eyes, look into mine. I promise you no more sadness.

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