The profound reverence of Mr. Petrus Peter

My home is silent, only the tap-tap of my fingers hitting these keys dares to challenge the morbid stillness.

I am just as silent, my soul stopped moving a while ago. And now, my body is also decaying, sores are opening on my skin, my back is drying up and flaking off, a bit like dead fish. And like a dying fish, when the weather changes I begin to gasp and wheeze. It has been my property for so long, this body, and I have hardly regarded it, I have always worked hard to destroy it.

When my body dies, will I continue to live? I hope not, because if there is a life after death, there will be lot of people who currently are in that 2nd life that I would not want to meet. I hope I just vanish.

It is growing, this pressure in my head. Maybe it is a brain tumour, maybe it is something else. I sway when I walk now, yes, even my instincts have started to decay.

These are not important pieces of information, these words here about my health. There are billions of people, and most could replace me.

Mr. Peter screamed out in the church day before yesterday, he spoke in tongues, he saw god, he met god. Then he collapsed on the floor, and started to cry. I watched stiffly, amazed at so much emotion available for use by such a dull man.

Blind faith, that is the talent he was born with. He is small, ugly, quite stupid, not in the least entertaining, yet he has faith in various and everything. He has a passably goodlooking wife, mostly because he is not aware how unattractive he is.

Petrus will inherit this earth once I have rotted away. He is the meek, and I am arrogant in my need to categorise him.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

Is this all that has happened on your Columbian trip? I'm glad your finally going to church and, also don't judge people.

4:53 PM  

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