Faith

After the forty hour mark the key to staying awake past that is constant eye movement change your point of focus constantly otherwise the tessellations in the tiles and on the wallpaper and on the subway wall make you nauseous otherwise youre fine not tired not hungry youve just finished an audition for a national tour of west side story and its boop boop boop assembly line one minute comic monologues for all the wannabe officer krupkes and youre out and you get a text message and youve been essentially dumped via text message and for the second time this month you've made homemade lemon ginger sorbet and she didnt show and its fucking pathetic and youre fucking pathetic and you start to read christopher hitchens to take your mind off the cold hard fact hat youll be eating lemon sorbet by yourself again in the dark like a forgotten beast and it doesnt help because as much as hitchens is prosaic and tons of your fellow agnostics/atheists love to slather on their favorite hitchens quotes his book just frightens you to the core not because of him but because it just reinforces the fact that religion is a virus that will destroy humanity and you dont think it can ever be removed so people can love and enjoy this brackish miserable fleeting time we have without all this additional suffering from those with faith you just cant think of any way to eradicate religion without resorting to the same evil tactics used by other religious cleansers and even then the virus will still mutate and multiply and just as youre about to give up and cry a man enters the subway and sings gospel songs and busks for change another man tugs his copper toupee which sits atop his grey hair on the back of his head and an old dominican man starts to methodically pluck out the hairs on the knuckles of his left hand and he does not flinch and you wish you just wish you could take a pill and be forever cured of the need to love and be loved have that wretched hole plugged up and just make as much stuff as you can until you die and through that factor your own kind of faith a faith that you are not wasting fucking time that you are making songs and stories and characters and poems which arrest people from the staid tiny suffering they bear and open a door in their heart giving them a brief glimpse of self-possibility of feelings long interred by disuse and cynicism because thats all you can do that is all you are going to get in this curling shadow of time