The Decline Is Right For Me

I love you. I want to be with you. Why do you not pay attention to me? Well, you did, back when the church was smaller. You would look at me, and say hello, when with your wife by your side. And I shyly smiled, and said hello too perhaps. But I don't remember that. I feel so sad. Maybe it is this sad song by Leona Lewis on the top 20 hits on the itunes radio. I feel like I let you down. I feel I did not become everything you wished for me when you saw me as a young adult in middleschool going to a private highschool. I was bright eyed back then, always looking to the future with great hope and expectation. And now that future is in the present, but not as glamorous as I hoped. Instead, I feel it is as good as I could expect, in fact better. I am not living the high life, of a lot of wealth and respect in business and owning a corporation like I wanted to. I am no vixen or dominatrix like I wanted to be as the boss I expected I'd become by now as some kind of prodigy.

Instead, you look at me with pity, because you learned that I was psychotic. I thought it meant I was a prophet of some sort. Maybe I should learn the arts of sorcery and magic so that I am a psychotic to be feared, rather than a mere person to be sad for. Maybe psychosis is really the ability to understand the nature of the world that normal common sense is not able to reach. Am I to learn esoteric knowledge? Then, you may not pity me anymore. And then maybe you will want me. I imagine I'd ruin your marriage. You said you'd rather die first than to ruin your church. I don't want you to die, but I am an atheist. And I believe when I die I am not going to heaven, but will become dirt and explode in a black hole someday when Earth is burnt to a crisp by the ever larger sun, and gets sucked into it. And, I don't want my life, or yours because you are not as young as we once were...I don't want our lives to end without getting to know each other intimately. I want to be your friend, but I am afraid that if I got involved in your ministries that it is not going to help me get closer to you, and it will be all for nothing...yes, for nothing because I do not want to get to know other people. I rather dream about you and me, and pay attention to other people that I also want to know instead through online stalking and keeping track of the books they publish and the sermons you give online. Meanwhile, I will stay at home, and wish that someday something will bring us together. Maybe I am going to be an intellectual in my own right, who talks about eroticism in my books with Christian leaders, and you will be one of them in my head, who I play with on paper, and turn into some kind of book. It will be a bestselling Harlequin, unless it is too racy for even them.

Anyway, I don't know what would happen if I got to know you personally. Much the time I look up to you, in fact all the time...but sometimes you say things that catch me off guard that I can't believe you are that way, or thought that. Like, that you wanted to die. It is too sad! Don't die. Don't want to die. What would make you think that way? Is it that my life has become nothing and I have gone to your church from the beginning and so you feel all your work was in vain? Is it because you can't get people to get off of their butts and to do soemthing with their lives, like me? Would it help you if I became something with my life? Would it help if I became somebody so that then you'd have an appropriate excuse to get to know me? What if my role was as an atheist who wrote to destroy your cherished Christianity? What if you harvested within your church a traitor all these years? And yet to me it is giving Christians hope, that if you have reached the pinnacle of it and want yet more, there is something beyond it you can turn to. There are people who have been at the top of the religion and want to destroy themselves, perhaps to see what more there is when one grows numb from a perfect mature christian life.

I want to put my hand upon your face, and to cry with you, when you grow weary. And yet, what is there to cry about really? Nothing. Life is good. Life is much better than many others. And yet there is that, ethereal outsider feeling I get, when I want to know what more is out there, because I feel I can't FEEL. My life is good, and I am safe with my conservative christian parents for now. And yet I am 27, and they are young parents who are barely in their fifties. But when they die, you will probably be dead too. I don't want you to ever die. I am feeling like I am going to cry and die too if you were to die before me. I want to meet you, but I fear ruining the dream of you and me meeting in more favorable circumstances. Even if I were successful, I feel it would not warrant me being able to talk to you. I'd want to have a personal role in your life. Success would be too pompous and too much a part of the happy life. You on the other hand don't seem happy and would not like that I'd think. Sure you want happiness for me, but I don't think you are happy yourself. I think you need a little spice in your life. I think you need a sensual experience and some worldliness in your life. I think you outgrew Christianity. I think you should become part of my christian atheist group.

In it, I am dangerous to the world because I do not fear being scandalous or risque because I have lived the perfect life before and virtue has it's role but is not everything. I lived in psychotic mental hospitals and houses, and I have ruined my reputation enough by confusing people as to who I am. And you have seen the effects of this lifestyle when I went up on stage one day at your church. But it was all about freedom to me, and getting rid of fears of hell and death, and now of virtue's stagnancy for my life. Having everything I wanted was never enough for me as a young adult, and still was not as I got a little older. Now, I find my joy comes in the form of the worldliness you taught me not to be a part of. I love porn, and laugh at it. I like Harlequin and erotic fiction. I like shows like Archer, and Southpark, and Family Guy. I like to spend my days playing computer games at most when not writing self indulgent pieces in my journal or on online sites, sharing it with others who can become contaminated as well with me. I love books like Flowers of Evil by Charles Baudelaire, an Au Rebours or Against The Grain which tells of the hermit who hates people as barbarians of society. I like The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, and Aloysius Bertrand's fantasies de la nuit or soemthing, being Baudelaire's favorite writer. I like The Catcher in the Rye and Vogue magazine. I love the sudden decline and the decadence, opulence, and magnificence! I like trash wrappers as if they were art that I then tape to my wall next to the Vogue glamour magazine ads I taped up to my wall already. I have my Coach Poppy perfume still that I sprayed on all my books that I am going to send in the mail. The 11 cats in our house are wrecking the place. But I like it. Even the cat pee smell on my bed. And I want to delve into porn when I am through with this.