Entry X--Block (Part 2)

Wrote this last night around three in the morning when I was woken up by the asshole upstairs banging on my ceiling:

Christianity gets its flock to worship this symbol, this symbol of death.

This gets a christian to accept anything. If christ could die for you, then the least you can do is focus your entire life around him. Yes, we know, you never asked christ to die for you, but he did it for you just the same and now you owe him...big time.

God works in mysterious ways, they say. That’s just a rationale for being able to assign any event to god’s will, even if it baldly contradicts the hand-me-down morality from on high from that god.

See, it’s still too jumpy, it just doesn’t flow.

And only have one day left.

Maybe I should call Ms. Cabal, ask for more time.

Even before that thought is complete, the phone rings.

A lot easier to take than when hungover, at least.

Know who it is.

And for that very reason, I shouldn’t pick up. Should let the call go to voicemail.

Of course, I pick the receiver up before the second ring's over.

Can’t keep Ms. Cabal waiting.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Darwin. How are you today?”

Could say ‘great,’ but can’t lie to her.

“Doing alright—in the middle of writing.”

“That is what I want to hear, Darwin.”

Feel a rush to my balls, then my brain.

“Thank you, Ms. Cabal.”

“I was just calling to confirm you will be here at my office at noon tomorrow?”

“Yes, Ms. Cabal.”

No sense in putting it off, I’ll just show her what I’ve got and see how she reacts. Besides, showing up at her office isn't a request on her part, it's a command.

“As I said, we will order lunch in, so don't worry about eating. And please put your writing onto a disc and do not forget to bring it.”

A surge through my pants with that order.

"Yes, Ms. Cabal."

She gives me the address to her North Beach office then asks me if I want to be picked up by her car. Again, I decline. Probably going to have even more nervous energy to burn off tomorrow than the day we met. All I had to do that day was show my face, now I'm actually presenting her with material that I'm going to be judged on.

"Get back to your writing, Darwin. I expect to see only your best work."

Cock is stiff.

“I look forward to your reaction to it, Ms. Cabal.’

“We will see, Darwin.’

Ah shit, what does that mean?

Going soft.

“Yes, Ms. Cabal."

“Good evening, Darwin.”

“Good night, Ms. Cabal.”

Really should write, but think I'm going to make a detour to the bathroom and rub this one out (not that soft).

Who knows, maybe I’ll have one of them inspiring visions that will translate on paper...



Okay, here's what I got so far:

Faith is the wind

It’s not ‘like the wind,’ it is the wind.

For those of us who have no use for faith in our lives, it is a stinging wind of the bitterest January evening.

But a wind, nonetheless

Even the bye bull makes that analogy (John 3:8) when JC himself said:

"The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth: so is every one that is born of the Spirit."

But even though it is a metaphor for the unseen nature of god, that argument underscores christianity’s disconnection with reality and really, a misunderstanding of the difference between the spiritual realm (if such a realm even exists, the jury’s still out) and the material world we all know so well (or at least think we know, but this essay isn’t delving into the depths of quantum theory)

christians say the wind can't be stopped or control by humans, but that's not true--it can be manipulated. Ever hear of a windmill?

No, the wind can't be seen but it can be felt and more importantly, it can be measured--by its very nature, all things spiritual cannot be measured or quantified in any way.

This is where christianity has got it wrong--again (that statement could get v

No, god/spirit/jesus is not the wind.

The wind, as stated previously, is faith.

Okay, that’s what I decided on. Faith is one of the major themes/essays of the entire book and Ms. Cabal knows it, so it makes sense to give her a glimpse of what direction I’m taking this.
Maybe I should lose the stuff in parentheses. It is a first draft, but then there is the rule “When in doubt, leave it out.”

Course, there's also the unavoidable fact that I don't really have much written and I'll take anything that will

Frankly, not sure how strong the 'wind' metaphor is. Seems wimpy and unconvincing.

Course, this book is about breaking rules, shattering expectations and crushing all hope.
Well, maybe just the first two.

10th essay—christian conspiracies Working title: none

For now, this is how I’m going to end the book--looking to the future. Exploring the possible logical outcomes if christianity continues decimating secularism as is its wont, expressed in the form of various conspiracy theories.

Like I already decided, I won’t espouse any theory in particular, but I will present them as legitimately as possible. When I actually write a bloody draft, I’ll have to strike a balance. It can’t be too fantastic sounding, either to turn off certain readers who never accept any conspiracy theory or to paralyze others in paranoia that the christian SS is coming to take them away in the middle of the night and drag them off to ‘faith-based concentration camps.’ No, I want to leave the reader with a sense that they could play a part in opposing the threat christian extremism poses to individual liberty.

The conspiracies will consist of those I’ve accumulated through my research and contacts over the years. It'll finally be nice to name names of people and institutions with a forum of thousands of readers (if not more, considering Ms. Cabal's publicity and marketing magic). But when I actually write it out, going to have to be extremely clinical and unbiased in presenting the theories and scenarios. Despite this, my opposition to the possibility of christian theocracy will still be obvious to anyone who isn't asleep, so reckon I shouldn't get too impartial. After all this is an essay, not a strict piece of nonfiction.

Ehh, need toothpicks to keep my lids open at this point.

It’s 4:20 AM, and I have to get up by ten to shower, shave and at Ms. Cabal’s office on time.

Stare at the screen and realize this will have to do.

Save it to disc and pop it out and slip into my duffel bag, so I don’t forget it when I leave.

Look down at my thinning waistline and realize I’ve lost several pounds the last two weeks. Irony being that I’ve had plenty of money for food the whole time. It’s like if I don’t need to eat, I’m not as hungry. My twisted psychology.

Can’t be shocked at the weight loss, this was like no deadline I ever faced in college.

Took a lot out of me.

But this is just the beginning, gotta keep that in mind. Facing a much bigger deadline in July, less than three months away.

That means tomorrow night, after the meeting, I’ve got to start writing again.

Lay my head down on the pillow, eyes wide open, mind racing, still unable to sleep though my eyes are sore

Know the writing isn’t where it has to be--soon, especially that rough, rough draft of the 'faith' essay.

Biggest worry is that I don’t really feel any momentum building, like I’m still struggling to churn out each and every sentence.

If only they came as easy as these random thoughts.

Got to turn things around, and in a hurry.

Can't stop worrying about the little things

Like, how will Ms. Cabal react to barely any of the essays having titles in the outline?

But I gotta look on the meeting as an opportunity, not something to fear.

It’s the only way I’m going get the inspiration I so sorely need.

God…help me. I can’t write this book on my own.

Not without Ms. Cabal.

Besides the thrill of actually being alone with her in her office.

And if she looks particularly alluring, it’ll be all I can do to keep getting completely distracted.

Got to keep reminding myself that I can never have her. But the book is attainable, and that’s what I’ve gotta hone in on.

Not to mention, the book is the only thing that will keep her in my life.

More pressure: Have to do everything in my power to make the book successful, so that she keeps me around to write a sequel.