(no subject)
I am the martyr that dies for his faith but did not live for it. I sat in the pews, recited the prayers, faked the movements. On a cross my death was tragic. They spoke of my bravery, my obedience for years.
I am not the prodigal son, I am the other son. Was my effort and time wasted? I could have easily done nothing and have had a much higher reward. I worked the fields as my brother spent his inheritance on alcohol and prostitutes. I stood by my father as he wept for him. And one day, he returned and a feast was held. And I am the immoral.
I have read every verse searching for meaning.
I am not Abraham; I am his son. I have first-hand seen the craze in a believer's eyes. We traveled all day in the hot sun. A zealot, my father, held a knife above my chest to sacrifice me for the omniscient. And in those last seconds before I was saved, I saw no hesitation.
I am not Moses; I will not listen to a burning bush. I will not free the chosen from slavery to place them in decades of desert; the sun burned their backs and blinded their eyes when they looked to the sky in hopes of food dropping. I will not climb a mountain to learn of ten and to return to pagans. I have not moved rivers with the gesture of a hand, to crash the waves on soldiers following orders like I follow.
I am the child who prayed and prayed for forgiveness when he accidentally -unknowingly- sided with Satan's armies in the stories. Forgive my selfishness, forgive my wanting.
I am every mind destroyed by fear, left to rot in faith.
I am Adam. Eve came from my rib. Knowledge destroyed us and gave us life, and if it is a sin then let us scream out at the top of our lungs, "We are sinners!", for the world to hear and to understand. We are sinners of repression. We are sinners of blind faith. We are sinners of fear.
And I am reason; I am every man who did not accept original sin as sin, or guilt, or fear, or subservience.
I am not the prodigal son, I am the other son. Was my effort and time wasted? I could have easily done nothing and have had a much higher reward. I worked the fields as my brother spent his inheritance on alcohol and prostitutes. I stood by my father as he wept for him. And one day, he returned and a feast was held. And I am the immoral.
I have read every verse searching for meaning.
I am not Abraham; I am his son. I have first-hand seen the craze in a believer's eyes. We traveled all day in the hot sun. A zealot, my father, held a knife above my chest to sacrifice me for the omniscient. And in those last seconds before I was saved, I saw no hesitation.
I am not Moses; I will not listen to a burning bush. I will not free the chosen from slavery to place them in decades of desert; the sun burned their backs and blinded their eyes when they looked to the sky in hopes of food dropping. I will not climb a mountain to learn of ten and to return to pagans. I have not moved rivers with the gesture of a hand, to crash the waves on soldiers following orders like I follow.
I am the child who prayed and prayed for forgiveness when he accidentally -unknowingly- sided with Satan's armies in the stories. Forgive my selfishness, forgive my wanting.
I am every mind destroyed by fear, left to rot in faith.
I am Adam. Eve came from my rib. Knowledge destroyed us and gave us life, and if it is a sin then let us scream out at the top of our lungs, "We are sinners!", for the world to hear and to understand. We are sinners of repression. We are sinners of blind faith. We are sinners of fear.
And I am reason; I am every man who did not accept original sin as sin, or guilt, or fear, or subservience.