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Contemplation of a Drunken Believer
Oct 31, 2021

Core Spirit member since Oct 31, 2021
Reading time 3 min.

Chapter one - starve the devil

“ I’m scared,’’ voice one uttered tremblingly.

“ What are you scared of?” voice two retorted

“I’m......scared of existence” voice one final expelled after a brief pause

I was only five when I first met Death. I can only describe it as nirvana. A total eclipse, sweeping away everything I ever doubted as being truth. I was paralyzed unable to connect to my body, but at the same time getting an overwhelm load of my senses. Unable to process the information as it was flooding in all at once, but I could feel his power with every shallow breathing. As much as I wanted to reject him. I felt a bonded to him, an attraction to his potential. Unbeknownst to the rapid fire that was growing in its development, I stitched myself to him. Heart pounding so hard I levitated. Nothing was real but my awareness of his existence, frozen in time. Like a flameless fire he evaporated into my imagination.

As moments turned into days and days turned into years he became nothing but a constant belief. Beneath everything he still remains. It’s a silent, visionless battle, taking everything in its wake, leaving nothing but anger and appetite. With my existence only being a sacrifice for his warmth. I became oriented to the paralyzing mundaneness of the present as it always aged to yesterdays torture. The future being his blueprint and my self fulfilling prophecy. He was always there “ until your last breath” with promise.

I thought denial would bring me some type of control but the signs became harder to resist. Every external distraction would be tainted with my obedience to his whisper.

I then ignorantly presumed The Devil was the key. I thought by conquering The Devil I would be able to be worthy in Deaths presence.

“The thing about change is that soon Death will always appear…..People believe the dark comes knocking……But what you don’t understand is…..the devil is already in the room….The knock is from the danger, it’s a warning sign” The Devil cautioned. But It is to late for mercy I was already attached. I wanted, no I needed, to feel the warmth embrace of Death. But with all my victories , I was only greeted by stillness.

As time persisted, I was unable to rationalize anything above “until your last breath”. He became my purpose of awareness; point of consciousness. Fear of my undertaking was slowly creeped into my sanity. Him, also being my only reasoning. Every night I would barging for more, as he always visited but only after ascending.

It was like being slowly choke with your own need to survive. Only to brought back to a pit of void. I know he is not my all but then why does it hurt so bad?

Insecurities only come to light after he’s been beneath every argument. I keep telling myself “ You are nothing but a representation of what I am blocking”. Self-destruction being the only power I hold through his eyes. Conceptually I need to forsake him. But my heart hisses his name.

Being more in tone with him has been my downfall. His words are hard to ignore. Stitched to my soul, empowering my need to please. Shackled by his threats of division. I am attached to the vision, devouring my ego. The more I want, the more he pulls away.

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