I was in therapy and on Xanax over the
shenanigans and goings over my stupid job at a toxic and dysfunctional company
(who I'll call the '9th Gate of Hell' Inc.) run by petty liars, sloppy drunks
and bullies that I had given way too much of my time, energy and consideration.
Fortunately, part of my psyche was about to extract itself to observe my beleaguered
mind from an analytical distance as it went through a full blown depression and
sustained fits of anxiety.
This was exacerbated by a very clear
awareness of my history and subsequent triumphs over addiction, abuse and
injustices that led me to a severe disappointment in myself for letting this
meaningless job and insignificant company get to me as badly as it did.
I observed my mind mapping out my
suicide. It indulged in research of the Samurai ritual of hari kari and tales
by Carlos Casteneda of the ancient shaman diving off cliffs to be suspended
momentarily in midair before being absorbed into the upper world to be reunited
with ancestors and ancient intelligences. I did yoga every morning and tantric
magick every night in hopes of lifting my self from these ugly depths and
persevering until I could extricate myself from this daily sludge and misery.
I would flee to my self constructed
temple night after night, strip naked and chant over circles of prayer beads
and diagrams of the universe scrawled upon parchment with concoctions of sacred
herbs and olive oil. I would be driving in the car and observe points north on
the road of groves of trees and secluded underbellies of bridges that I would
include as points on the map where I would sleep for the night when it came
time for me to leave my family and begin my sojourn to find my final place of
self induced rest.
I watched myself compose in my head the
letter of departure and apology to my children more times than I can
approximate. As far as my wife was concerned, I observed myself reasoning that
it was the lesser of two evils to fail her as an invisible corpse than as a
burden of a broken soul polluting her home from day to day to day and on into
infinity for the rest of our lives.
In short, I was worth more dead than
alive and in death I could so much more easily work the magick I've embraced
for so long with a deftness and greater finesse than I ever could while trapped
in this snare of human flesh. I could finally be free to be the angel and magus
I ultimately aspire to be. The reward of my death would culminate in an
ultimate good for us all. It made perfect sense. Suicide would lead to
Buddhahood. The dissolution of my earthbound sufferings would lead to my
ability to bestow the blessings upon those I love that I could not were I to
remain alive.
From a distance I watched my thought
processes sinking deeper into a pit that my soul kept rooting for us to climb
out of.
My sleep in those days was severely
fragmented and the division between night and day was dismissed. I began to go
outside at 4 in the morning and perform Kriya yoga meditations that I had been
advised to do at such a deep and silent hours of the morning otherwise known as
the Amrit Velum or the time when the veil between heaven and earth is the most
thin.
I sat and breathed as I had been
instructed with my fingers configured in the appropriate mudras, my eyes closed
and focused upon the inner space between my eyebrows while chanting in Sanskrit
for divine guidance. There came a moment in the proceedings that I became
fatigued and disgusted with this apparently futile practice and I opened my
eyes. There before me, I bullshit you not, was Jesus. He was holding my hand
and had suspended a golden rope from my heart to his and I said...
'...dude, seriously, fuck off, no way...'
...and he in a misty,diaphanous,
indomitably silent manner telepathically said...
'...dude, yes way....'
In the mornings that followed, the
visions of Jesus continued to appear, I took that fucker to task every goddamn
day.
'Some of your followers scare the shit
out of me!'
'These hypocrite cocksuckers have smeared
your name to shit!'
'When I was a kid, they told me to pray
to you and I got left holding an empty bag full of shit like a fucking sucker!'
'They said you could defeat the devil and
look at this shit on CNN!'
'And what about what happened to my
father?! Explain THAT one! You fucking false lying cash generating machine
preying upon the stupid and the scared! Yes I've seen your ad campaign with a
spear in your side and drooling spittle upon a cross, blood streaming from your
temples oooooh aren't you fucking great and I'm supposed to fall on my knees in
compassion for you because your fictional ass died for us.
Fuck your lip servants!
You! Prove it! Because blind faith has
done nothing for me except get me one step closer to being killed sometimes by
my own hand! Which is why I wrote you off years ago!
If you are descended from a God of
compassion, your ass needs to buck and do a hell of a lot better!
If you are the spawn of a jealous God who
hates all forms of its image removed and reinterpreted through the lens of
humanity instead of a God who celebrates all forms of his creation, I'm
separating myself from your ignorance and be called a heretic while waiting for
the evolution of heaven to produce a God that this planet needs rather than
you, you incompetent, useless fairy tale!'
Jesus held my hand and my heart and
listened while I was crying and spitting and cussing his fucking ass the hell
out.
One morning came when the tirades began
to run dry and his ghost began to fade that I started to hear in small silent
whisperings snowballing into cascades of the words
'Leap of Faith'
Not faith in Jesus or the church or
religion or other man made apparitions, but faith in myself. Not to exorcise my
demons, imprison them in a brass vessel and cast with righteous vigor to the
bottom of the ocean but rather give rise to a celebration of thanks for the
strength they require me to manifest to overcome them in order to rise above
the oppression and begin writing the next chapter of my life. Because at the
culmination of every battle, I always discover a strength I never knew I
possessed and for that, I must take off my hat and say thank you to Satan.
I don't like you, you black evil piece of
shit but I respect you and realize your purpose. Thank you for making me
stronger. Now fuck off before I churn my guts, narrow my brow, consternate my
irises, focus my lasers and kick your ass again.
So it came to be, on a balmy August
morning, after many yelling matches and confrontations, industrial accidents
and financial catastrophes, broken promises and transparent lies, ultimatums
and bellows of...
...If you motherfuckers keep this this
shit up the next thing you'll see is my ass walking out the door when I fucking
quit!...
...with no prospects of future
employment, I stuck a dagger in the heart of my employment, spilling its guts
upon the unsealed concrete floor and cast my association with those terrible employers
off the crest of the nearest cliff without regard for momentary suspension or
whatever jagged rocks lay below in the quietest most unceremonious manner
imaginable or with so much as a backward glance or the least bit of regret, then, now or any point in between.
In the days that followed I very easily
weaned myself off of Xanax and thanked my therapist for lending me his kind
ear.
Dr Ken,
Dude, seriously, thank you for letting me
vent and run off at the mouth so that I could find the answer for myself.
9th Gate of Hell, Inc.
Thank you for reminding the of the
importance of self respect and that the equilibrium of casting pearls before
swine should be a strict equation of...
Pearls-100
Swine-0
...and thank you Jesus. God knows that as
a Christian, I'm nothing to write home about. I'm still not sure what happened
during our early morning meetings. All I know is that you were there. Whether
you came from beyond the clouds to sit with me or was the part of my psyche
that removed itself from my head to observe this episode of fragility and
projected a hologram upon the predawn mist, I have not a damn clue in the
freaking world. All I know is that you were there. To whatever degree you were
one or the other or a combination of both, I don't know and at the end of the
day, I don't care. Just simply thank you.
All that matters is that there are things
beyond comprehension that have our backs and will give us the shove we need to
cast aside the constraints of history, preserve its lessons and kick down the
doors of the next vessel of our eternity and proclaim in a loud voice...
'..I have survived, I have endured, I
have learned and I have lost, I have thrived and I have died. I am your problem
now. Teach me what I need to know! Quick! Before the world ends and we drag our
regrets behind us to become pollution upon the walkways and spray painted
obscenities blaspheming architecture in Heaven.'
As always, very humbly, I thank you for reading.
Be strong and don't take any shit from those bastards. You're better than that.
All my love, always and forever,
Max
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