Earth is a night club called purgatory. We're born in line waiting to
get in and when we do, we see our cover charge was the choices we made
to get here. Me, I've made my way to the bar and I'm trying to drown out
the hedonistic trance music that is playing over head.
I order
a glass of wine and it comes in a grail from an Israeli bartender, and
he warns me that sipping of this cup will cost me my life. A casual
glance around the room and I am aware of the lack of light in the place.
At one end of the bar I see what looks like a neatly groomed man with
his hair parted to the side and a genuine smile on his face. His suit is
black and his hair is blonde and he moves with a rigid composure in my
direction. I can tell this man has the appearance of light as it
shimmers so dimly off the gold cufflinks. I remark to myself on how
clean his appearance is as I look him in the eyes and see a quiet
darkness. He introduces him self as The Latter Day saint and offers his
card while grabbing me a coaster. "Sign here on this line and we'll give
you stock options, and direct deposit of spiritual blessings with 10%
annual growth" His voice is smooth, convincing and for a moment I think
about joining until he hands me his solid gold pen. I thank him for his
kindness and his service as I turn back to the cup of wine sitting
before me.
The music in this place is so awful, but the beat, it
can be enticing, the longer I sit here. At the other end of the bar
there is a woman in a deep blue dress standing on one foot on the bar
stool. I find her beauty alluring, as she seems to be perfectly at peace
with the fact that she is doing something so absurd. Her hair is long
and dark, pulled back into a pony tail the way that I find so
attractive. She seems so unphased by the crowded room and all the people
fighting on the dance floor. Now that I think of it, I see most of the
people are driven mad on the dance floor for they want so desperately to
stop dancing, but they can't, because they equate the moment with
feeling alive, and the high they get from the fun is their god. To stop
is to die, and they aren't ready to admit that they are already dead. I
turn back to the woman in the dress and her eyes are shut. She is aware
of everything that is going on, but you couldn't tell from her face. The
eastern slant in her eyes and her composure tells me that she isn't
American to say the least. I think about asking her to dance, but there
are a group of people with their fingers in their ears with wide eyes
screaming that none of this is real, and that when you stop dancing that
is all.
The bouncer at the door is holding a staff with a cross
as he is patting people down and pointing people to where they can
score some blow. I sigh a heavy sigh and say aloud that "I see too much"
as I stare down into this grail of wine. I turn and look at the mirror
across the bar, glaring deep into my eyes, into my soul and I beg to
know who I really am. My thoughts are interrupted by the Jewish
bartender with the white rag wiping the insides of some beer mugs.
"you're dead" he says.
I take a sip of the wine, which is
strange because I have never really cared for it before, and I ask"how'd
you know?" "Everyone is from the second they're born, and the irony is
they spend their time looking for the meaning of life." I ask him what
her story is as I point to the woman at the end of the bar. "she thinks
we're all just energy, and she has part of it right about balance and
things. Your friend over there who passed you his card, has the essence
of what it means to be a servant, but, some of the finer details of who
and why are off. Let me ask you, why not dance?" HE asked as he set his
glass down and peered over the bar. The tone in his voice resonated with
me, like he had some authority, and I knew better than to lie to him.
" Because I think that that life is a wasted life. That is a real
death. If I am a dead man already, I don't dance. I just move when
moved." I answered. He smiled through his thick beard and he took my
glass in his hand. " This is the wine of the covenant, my blood, poured
out. Keep drinking dead man, and I will show you what real life is."
This is a place where I post my thoughts on God, man, sin, death, failure, triumph and all the laughter and anguish that they produce.
Thursday, January 31, 2013
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