Friday, October 21, 2011

Jesus Christ

I was completely alone again today.
No one could save me when Grey dragged me into my own personal Hell.

I couldn't get up for school. I didn't even bother trying, actually. The shadows in my bedroom were reaching all around me...I didn't want to step on them. I felt so helpless, but more importantly, powerless.
At one point, I tried reading The Bible again. Couldn't do it. Threw it into the corner of my room.

I started asking myself questions. What exactly did I believe in? What was the point? Why exactly do I keep fighting? Wouldn't it just be easier to give in?
Why only questions? Aren't there any answers out there?

Why am I so alone in this?

I don't remember at what time it began. I only remember hearing the clock stop. That was when my bed changed into a boat, and my room became the ocean. A lantern shone above my head. I was sailing alone on a dark, shadow sea. There was the moon, watching from above.

Where was I sailing to? Who was my captain? Should I jump into the ocean...let the water in?
Need you like water in my lungs

A tiny, wooden cross was on the floor of the boat. I picked it up, and studied it; there was a name on it. The lantern light was not enough to help decipher it properly, so I did not know what exactly it said.
The wind whispered in my ear. It wanted me to follow it. So I set my sails high.

I sailed onwards. The moon laughed and the stars blinked. A fog shrouded the surroundings like a fluffy blanket. The water reflected my entire life before me; I saw myself on my knees, praying to no one.
I saw myself alone.

I put my shivering, twitching hands into both of my jeans pockets; my right hand contacted a parchment of some type. I pulled it out...a corner ripped off, but it was still legible. I was barely able to recognize the markings. It was a map. A map of an ocean.
On one side of it, there was a tiny piece of land. It was marked with a word that I could not read.
On the other side of the map, there was a huge piece of land. It was marked with another illegible word.

In between, a tiny dot. Above this dot, was scrawled my name.
My middle name was bolded: Owen Grey Norris.

I was heading towards the bigger piece of land.

The boat sailed on, while I thought over what exactly could that land be. My thoughts were interrupted when I noticed a stranger in the boat to the right of me. He had long brown his shoulders. He was dressed in a white robe, and he wore contrasting, dirty sandals.
His eyes were completely blue, but also gray at the same time. A third color I could not recognize hid inside of his bright eyes too. What exactly was it?
Who exactly was he?

I think I knew all along. I just played dumb. Wouldn't alot of kids do that, if they knew who was in the boat with them too? Especially if they felt guilty?
He was Jesus Christ. My lord, my savior.
What the fuck was he doing in the same boat as me, though.

He looked back at me, and I saw his full face. I opened my mouth to say something, but I could not say it.

"Don't be afraid to let your tongue loose, child. I bear no ill will. 
Tell me, what exactly is on your mind?"

"...who are you...?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

He chuckles, and grins at me. His teeth are almost blindingly white.
"Depends. Who do you think I am, boy?"

"Chuck Norris."
He laughs.

"Then I am Chuck Norris."
"Which means you're God." I reply.

"Yessir. I am, really honestly truly, God. We can keep joking around about my identity if you want, but yes, 

I am Jesus Christ."

I cannot respond to that. How could I have? So I just looked away from him. I didn't want to acknowledge his existence. If I could not see him, then he wasn't there.
The boat sails on. We're moving along quite nicely, though the wind is picking up in a more restless fashion.

The fog clears up a bit (it is still heavy, though), and moonlight shines past my face. I follow it with my gaze, and I see Jesus again. He was sitting there, just looking at me.
The moonlight shines on his face, and I think to myself:
"Jesus Christ, that's a pretty face;
the kind you'd find on someone who could save."

With this thought, I remember another thought I had the other day.
The one I tried to push away.
The one I tried to not think about.
The one I tried forgetting.

The thought caused a load of questions to invade my mind.

What if The 757 see me as a risk? Something holding them back?
What if Norman decides I'm too much of a liability?
What if The Lonely Hearts get tired of the bullshit I've caused?

Will they put my away, into an asylum? Will they kill me?
Will they attach cement blocks to my feet, and drop me into the water?
Will they let me drown in the darkness?

I had thought:
If they don't put me away,...well, it'll be a miracle.

It had occurred while I was talking to Norman about something. I don't remember what.

Maybe I deserve to be alone.

Jesus taps me on the shoulder.

"We're almost there; as long as you don't let the water into the boat, we'll reach land."

His touch felt golden, and I felt visible.
I felt there. Someone had finally seen the true "me".

But it wasn't enough.

I looked down into the water, and saw my friends going about, having fun. Having lives.
While here's Owen...sitting alone, tripping balls, and seeing Jesus Christ.

I looked at the reflection of my face. I didn't recognize the monster I saw.

For a quick second, the mirage, or hallucination, or whatever it was, glitches, and I am back in my room, alone, in my bed. I do not want to leave the dreamland yet, so I tug at the remaining pieces of the dream, and immerse myself back in the liquid shadows.

I find myself back on the boat with Jesus. He looks at me like I never left...
I say:

Well, Jesus Christ, I'm alone again.
So what did you do those three days you were dead?
'cause this problem's gonna last, more than the weekend....

This was me calling the old man out.

Jesus does not react in the way I expect him to do. He smiles, and looks out into the distance.
"Child, I went underwater; I went below the surface. I am sure you're not looking for an obvious, or literal, answer here. What do you want from me, Owen? Are you blaming me for your loneliness? Or your entire situation?"

I shake my head in disgust. He just doesn't get it. Neither do I, but it's him who's important in this situation.

The winds are picking up. Waves push over into the boat. A humongous cloud blocks out the moon.
The boat tilts. The sail rips. The hull cracks.
The ocean spills over us.

Before we are swept away into the water, I hurriedly speak to Jesus again. Though I am fighting to stay in the boat, he is standing on the water.
"Well, Jesus Christ, I'm not scared to die,
I'm a little bit scared of what comes after!!
Do I get the gold chariot...or do I float through the ceiling?"

His mouth opens, and begins to answer my question, but before he can, a giant wave swallows me whole and I am taken into the depths of the sea.
I think to myself:

Do I divide and fall apart?
'cause my bright is too slight to hold back all my dark.

The water is my darkness. It invades my soul, wrapping around and tumbling inside me.

I black out.
I awake on a grey beach. I am on land.

There is a gate before me. White light shines through. Warmth permeates out from inside.
A man stands guard. His name is Thomas. I walk up to him,
he asks to see my hands.
I am rejected.

I am awake on my bed. The covers barely keep the cold away.The shadows are darker than they have ever been before. The light above me is on, but it does not glow.

I feel a heavy weight on my chest; no, inside my chest. I still cannot get up.
I suddenly remember when I was boy, and how my grandparents had a cross on the wall in the living room.

I remember throwing my tiny bible they gave me for Christmas one time when I was a kid. I was so mad at my mother once, when she told me something involving Christianity. I don't remember what.
I remember having to pick the cross up, and feeling...guilty for knocking it down.
I remember hammering it back to the wall, and forgetting about it a week later.

I shake out of this vision, and try getting up out of bed again. I am successful.
I stagger into the feels so long. I fall to the floor.
Our pet cat, Kitsy, jumps onto my back, and then scampers off into the open closet next to me.

Conscious thought fades yet again. I'm alone, in a cabin. Jesus Christ stands before me.

I yell at him.
"I know you're coming for the people like me, but we all got wood and nails!!"

He shakes his head, and walks away. I'm alone, in a cabin.

Grey appears behind me, and says:

"Rejected even by an eternally loving God. 
Would you like to be accepted by me? 
I'll always accept you, Owen..."

I'm in a factory, with Grey, watching wooden crosses being made by dark lumberjacks.
Iron nails are being created somewhere else; I can hear them being made.

I'm alone again.

The shadows are gone in my room; it's Friday. I've been in my room for two days.

Grey was here. He marked his name on my window.
With blood.

I'm now sitting here, shivering. I have no clue on what to do.

My dreams copied Brand New again, though. I know that.

Seriously, listen to this. It's almost exactly what I said in the hallucination.

...if it was a hallucination.

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