First, let me preface this amalgamation of thumb typed English diction with a proverbial quote from yours truly.

”In writing lies catharsis.”

I hate poetry. Not Whitman, Poe, or Frost. The greats were poets, a shiver can be obtained from reciting their works. I mean, ”new-age” poetry. The, ”i write one line and dont capitalize i” It’s lazy, it’s as much poetry as someone with a polaroid is a photographer. It’s bullshit. No mames ¡güey.

The point, though, my quote is poetry! Bias? Perhaps. Truth? Unquestionably so.

Writing allows you to speak uninterrupted, unabashed by the foul rebuttals of -not your peers- you’re unequivocal, not even close, lessers.

Back on topic.

God. Does he/she/it exist? I can’t, beyond a reasonable doubt, claim I know what this higher entity or enigma is. White-Jesus God? Turban headed God? Indian hyper-sexual God? Black Morgan Freeman God? However, with utmost certainty, I can assure you, backed with empirical evidence, something with great power does exist, and I am in its favor.

The evidence.

Before we begin, let’s give a quick history of what my definition of God would entail. Baptized Catholic, attended church three days a week. The wrath and guilt of any good Catholic pressed upon me with incorrigible unwavering efforts. Superstition was met with the stoic realism akin to any non-believer of children’s fables. If God wanted to make a believer out of me, it would have to work for it.

My thunderbolt from heaven never came. Fifteen years would pass before God would manifest in righting the wrongs I longingly prayed resolved during my youth.

The evidence. Really this time.

Today is July 24, 2019. When this gets added to the next iteration of the King James Bible, Quran, or Kwanzaa morning tale, I’d like the timeline to be sufficiently established.

The first sign of The Almighty? A week ago, I was perusing long lost high school acquaintances on Facebook. Who’s gotten fat? Women I never got amble opportunity to bed. Ex’s I consumed copious quantities of cocaine with, that now are married and teach elementary-aged children the propagandist immoral rhetoric of the D.A.R.E program.

Through exhaustible profile stalking, I clicked onto the profile of a blood feud nemesis, long forgotten. Now, the same smarminess oozing from his smile dove off the screen and into my recoiled mind. The hatred returned, the hungering renews, far from satiated. “Reason” was a word no longer stowed in my lexicon. I was capable of crashing through brick walls, walking into Mordor and tossing that ring, choke-slamming fucking babies, if i could clutch this literal but not literal cocksucker by the throat. When, I noticed his seated position. Further inspection, more photos gone through, he had no legs. Stumps for legs. Lieutenant Dan sat before me on my phones screen.

A calming tingle, goosebumps, joy. Satisfaction replaced anger. The world made sense, and birds sang joyous hymns. Could this be God? Or coincidence? My non-believer mentality laughed, karmic justice I surmised. I’ll fucking take it. If events ended there, I would still carry the same notion. Not to be.

How his legs from the knees down left his body? I don’t know. If it was in service to this country, the price for freedom was two half legs of a douche. I’d make that trade every day. If it was Gods will this asshole lose his legs? How can you or I argue? He worketh in mysterious fucking ways.

The prophecy’s of, “The King of Kings,” doesn’t end there.

Today, again, July 24, 2019, Gods justice returned to bask the earth in his glory. While diligently seeing to my work duties, I received a call from one of my oldest dearest friends. He asked if I remembered “Bob” from our hometown.

I remembered Bob. Bob being my one brush with bullying. Bullying that lasted five years. Bullying that resulted in the only time your author has cried hysterically in public. I never believed in God. I did, however, believe in The Devil, Bob was the god-dammed devil! And oh boy did God smite The Devil.

Bob was found dead, in a field. Shot. Alone, naked, sodomized, dick missing. The dead and shot part is fact, the rest is conjecture or unconfirmed truth I say.

Now it’s getting a little weird right? Are my rivals falling around me? Am I our ages Job? Am I made to suffer, only to be rewarded?

But wait. There’s more!

The last victory came when the caller of Bob’s death proclaimed, “shit, I have to go, my serpentine belt just fucking snapped, I think.” How is this Gods work? This caller, an ancient friend, not long ago, decided to “drop-in” unannounced to my home. This seemingly friendly gesture is a known “no-no” for me. Let me know you’re coming, and don’t call, you better fucking text so I can choose to ignore you. God did not warrant this a limb-cutting or life-ending offense. Instead, inconvenience was met with inconvenience, a just God indeed.

Proof, if ever there was any. As much as any book contains. Undisputed, factual, and clear evidence God does in-fact exist.

You’re welcome for your renewed, or now found belief in our Lord and Savior. Disagree with my account? That’s okay, remember though, my God is very clearly a vengeful God. Like and share to spread the news of his return!

Published by tamanollahi

Writer at thelastindividual.com come check us out!

Leave a comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: