entry #409

Today: Phone calls (which I didn't answer), e-mails and text messages. Communications from close friends. Communications from lost friends. Some of the messages were intentionally ambiguous and cryptic while others bluntly addressed my previous post.

The water is rising and I feel trapped, but this is the price I pay for posting the thoughts that have been consuming my weary mind. I know the messengers mean well and their intentions are pure: they're seeking to save me ... from myself. And I suppose we all seek to become someone's personal Jesus. A messiah clad in street clothes bearing a message of hope. A modern day savior longing to rescue the weak and rejuvenate their senses with the optimism of tomorrow. Resuscitate. Rebuild. Resurrect.

Is it possible to salvage he who has embraced peace vis-à-vis death? How do you confront such a desolate soul? And how does this soul respond to the antithesis of his essence?

If only I could disintegrate slowly ... a fading radio signal that steadily degenerates into static. Indecipherable. Gone. Underneath everything.

According to his message, JRo, whom I haven't seen in many months, plans to visit me on Sunday. The water is rising. The closing in. I'll be forced to confront my feelings and thoughts outside of myself ...

xx

What Denny says is that maybe the second coming of Christ isn't something God will decide. Maybe God left it up to people to develop the ability to bring back Christ into their lives. Maybe God wanted us to invent our own savior when we were ready. When we need it most. Denny says maybe it's up to us to create our own messiah.

To save ourselves.

Choke by Chuck Palahniuk