The hard days

There is a tug on my shirt as a bag brushes against my back. A little shove as another person pushes past me racing to catch the train. My legs are weary from the daily hustle. I feel the gushing winds while going down the escalator in my everyday game of chasing the train. I am tired, but what else can I do? The bliss of ignorance is no match for the pain of realisation.

I get to the office, and I see my colleagues. My skin crawls, but I managed a smile. The workplace soirée is a cruel mistress, you play her games or find yourself on her platter. This was the beginning of my daily sadistic torture session.

Why do I do this to myself? 

This is what life is right? There was no other place to go.

I either go along with the crowd or find myself shunned and miserable — sell my soul to enjoy the comforts of the cage.

I thought about the world outside this cage and the things that mattered. What is the point of chasing dreams of money and ambition? Wasn’t this programmed into each of us who were churned through the system and spat out? On the other hand, what else?

I thought about what else I could be a part of. The other things on offer were not so palatable, but the cult of the need to belong is a powerful master. I thought of one of the multitudes of communities: the couch potato, the gamer, the sporting enthusiast, the fornicator, the churchgoer, the atheist, the pub and club junky, the outcast, the esoteric including the dark arts, private groups or exclusive clubs, the rebellious. 

You name it, and there was a silo readymade and commercialised for me to enter.

Perhaps I could mix a few together for an exotic drink and call it an alternative lifestyle. I elicit a chuckle. Nonetheless, these were all religions leaving you still feeling empty even after the fake motivational testimonies and the paying of fees.

A goldfish bowl of a world.

The grind of walking this path is constant. I am hated by the prisoner who acts unknowingly as the guard to his own cell. This guy commits suicide with vitriol and fury, fighting for a kingdom that has been carefully crafted to ensnare him. He dies an eternal death with the bravado of a superhero while his entourage cheers him on.

I now understood that the blindfold that has been out over the eyes of the whole world is a serious thing. I suffered now at the hands of the blind. Still, the suffering in store for them was not merely staring eternity head-on but knowing that there is no way back and the opportunity has passed. They know that they fought against the glory of Elohim, and the wine of his wrath will be poured out in full.

I understand that the creator only wants white linens — only righteousness, but looking at myself, I can see only filth. I was in a daily battle with the adversary of my thoughts. The more wisdom I was given, the more foolish I felt. How do I pick myself up knowing that I was a fool all my life? I knew the end of days would not be slowed for me, but I felt overwhelmed and inadequate.

I hope that there is a plan in place for me; otherwise, I am royally up the creek without a paddle. I know there is, but it requires me to move and commit.

I am frustrated to see so much, and I thank Elohim for peeling my eyes open. The same fate as the blind leading the blind, ending up in the same ditch awaited me. Such a blessing to know the truth and what an ordeal to walk it every minute of the day.

Painstaking, to say the least!

The bliss of ignorance has long past, and the brutal reality of this existence has smacked me square in the face. Now the requirements of Elohim, his insistence on total trust is taking its toll. I know he values me, and he knows what I need, but knowing and living are not the same things.

He demands living knowledge.

I must change my life in line with what he imparts. I wondered if I doubted but still walked if that counted. Maybe if I walk long enough, the doubt will fade away. Time will tell.

I can feel the smack of realisation, knowing that this is the real deal. When even the crazy think you are insane, then you know that you are in deep. In retrospect hearing the rhetoric of faith, trust and obedience and now having to do have proved very difficult. My unlawful — sinful thoughts take hold on my life and try to strangle me as I wrestle. I cannot give up — not now.

Each time I am about to drown a hand pulls me out of the water and reminds me what is at stake.

Oh Elohim, what will I do?

I am not good enough for you, and I know too much for this world.

The hard day.

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