Yesu Ben Mary returned to the place of his birth to preach his word only to find that those whom knew him had no ear for it.  They turned on him, assuming that because they knew him, that they understood and were better than him.

It is true that we can not preach in our own homes.  That we die a million deaths to those closest to us for they resolve our glory to simple trivialities.   What matters your divinity if those in your life think it is just a phase you are going through?  What matters the intelligent undercurrent of the human soul if it is but a foolish thought in the face of loved ones?  There is the rub: loved ones.  A blind and dangerous combination of words.  A silly destructive idea that first sedates you then when you are lulled into security emasculates.  And once castrated what glory do we have?  Silence becomes our only friend, and it stays true for it never lifts a finger to hinder your torment, it remains forever what it is.

I tire of this trivial world.  I tire of the preaching; the spittle of ignorance I am forced to consume where they claim that I’ve drunk of their holy water.  I know that you offer nothing tasty to the palette for fear of actually gratifying the gifted stomach.  You keep us tired and dead where we can not run, can not think, can not be.  We survive only to work and die.

There is no glory in the world.  Life is death. Only it takes much longer than it should.

What I say here is my final words on this site.  I’m done.  You’ve beaten me.  I give up.  I will no longer preach.  I will no longer talk.  I give up on writing.  I give up on everything.  I renounce my greatness.  Where are the Nurse Ratched’s of the world?  Where is my shock therapy?  My lobotomy?  I want my ignorance now, I’ve paid far to long.  I want the darkness and the empty thoughtlessness that seems to run the streets like those bulls in Pamplona.    Gore me now and end this torment.

finis
K. Dayton
08.25.03