Strange Religion

I am walking on a dark, dimly lit street. The dry freezing night air is barely making through my system. Lungs struggling. I know I should be wrapped up in layers but it doesn’t seem to matter. The cold passes through me. The snow gently settling on me. Staying Alive.

The thoughts continue to pour in, overflowing. The feet barely able to move forward. In any direction I see, the snow is blurring my view. The mind lost in a different world. A world that is warm, even on a cold December night. Especially on a cold December night. Slowly the mind fades away as do the people around me, snow wiping any trace of living footsteps. Reaching out.

A distant figure that seemed to be fading suddenly reappears in the gaze. My mind so jaded, fails to register any kind of familiarity with the figure. The mind though is on its own little hopeful journey. It knows what it wants, as it wishes onto another lonely figure that approaches close. The figure as it gets close brings a familiar warmth. Layers settling in.

The man in me, the pessimist believes in God. An unknown figure that looks over us through all good times and bad, more so bad. The optimist in me is an atheist, who's faith rejects any sort of belief in the unknown figure that might overlook any times, good or bad. A godless man. One who believes in making his own destiny. The optimistic me, standing in the cold staring at the unknown figure approaching towards me in the freezing night. Yet Atheistic.

The heels elevated the figure. The layers hid any kind of identifiable features. The cold masked any kind of fragrance. I stared right through the figure. It scarred my eyes. As the layers peeled off, a familiar figure emerged. The pessimist in me warned about all the wicked ways of the world. The optimist in me embraced the warm thoughts that flowed through my body. Then came the touch. Divine.

I had almost called it a day, so many times through the night. I deserted the feeling of being alive. As my eyes locked in. I saw the light. I could see, it’s no easy ride. She seems the kind who could take it all in stride. The atheist in me, the optimist, went all in, to buy in, some strange religion.

“This life might eventually just be the end of me, Will I still be with you?”

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Inspired by Strange Religion - Mark Lanegan

To, Tony Bourdain