People Are Strange

People are strange. They really are. That’s why I’m drawn to them. What’s fascinating is that some of them are drawn to me too. It’s a match made in heaven. Only that’s a bit of a fib. Part of the strangeness of people is in the language they use. Half the time, they don’t really know what they mean. Sometimes they don’t mean anything at all. Sounds innocuous doesn’t it? But it’s a dangerous as hell.

I like to visit during the Christmas holidays. Or the Holiday Season as it’s now called. A rebranding aimed at being inclusive, when all it really does is create more division. The equivalent of “Nothing!” In reply to “What you doing, honey?” It’s a lie, and we all know it, but we wear it all the same. Just as we all wore it when the Winter Festival was rather aggressively appropriated by the Christians. All’s fair in love and war, right? Funny! Like that’s anywhere near the neighbourhood of the truth.

Oh, and look at me! I’m saying we. I go native so readily. But then, that’s what makes me fit in so well. I’m not one of you, but I can do personified really well. Better than anyone else. Not to blow my own trumpet or bang my own drum. I have people do that for me. There are those of you who tend towards personification, and that’s really very interesting. You see, unlike me, they were born as a person and so you’d really not think it possible that they ceased to be a person and then went to the effort to present as a person in any case. But they do, believe me, they do. You won’t of course, not until you’re blindsided by one of them. And let me tell you, that hurts like a crazy cat with razor blade claws stuck deep in your heart.

You never see them coming. You are limited in so many glorious ways. Such a short span of life and yet, you waste so much of it upon unnecessary worry, worthless diversions and the pursuit of trinkets that suddenly have no use or worth to you once you’re gone. 

Your mortality is a gift, it gives you such certainty in this life. What have you got to lose? Yet you fear the loss of what you have been given for a finite time, and so, you hide your light from the world, driven by an illusory fear of the inevitable.

Your inconsequential fears fascinate me. You go around collecting them like kids in a sweet shop. Then you spend your life running from them, when they’re with you all the way! You use them as defences and excuses not to live and never to love. Not properly. You even fear that, perhaps most of all; love. Still you say the words I love you.

Lies, lies, so many lies! You suckle upon the teat of falsehood from the off. Fed a diet of deceit by parents who have yet to grow up and live. If they ever do. Busy on a treadmill to nowhere. Blind to the simple truths of your lives. Ignorant of the truth of yourselves.

You are miracles! Each spark of life is a component of the entirety of the universe. You are a part of everything and so you are everything. Thousands of ancestors have brought you into being to take one step further towards their collective hopes and dreams. Incremental gains to reach a state of perfection. Then Game Over!

Only, there’s another game after this one. You didn’t think this was it, did you? 

Yes you did.

You should almost be there by now, the end game at your fingertips, but there have been far too many glitches and bugs in the system. 

The lies.

You see, this whole set up was predicated upon truth and love. Pretty simple really. You’re social creatures and you know you need each other, but somehow you fail to remember that when it counts. Then there’s the matter of your worth. That’s a thorny one. Quite frustrating really. A walking miracle which is inherently of value, dismissing that value and choosing a downward spiral of angst and nihilism. Worry is cancer. Lies are cancer. Where do you think cancer got the idea from? All it had to do was manifest itself in parallel with the discord that already existed within you all.

You have the deck stacked in your favour. Always have and always will. But there is a price for anything and everything of value. Free-will affords you choice and so there have to be choices that are, let’s say, not quite so favourable for everyone concerned. Right and wrong. Good and bad. Should I make my husband a cup of tea, or stove his head in with the frying pan? You’ve all considered it. And many times at that. Especially with the really good husbands. You can be exquisitely perverse with those thoughts of yours! Makes wrestling with them all the more fun! And it makes being truthful just a little bit tricky at times. What are you thinking about dear? You’ll always find a white lie to cover up the potential for mariticide.

Oh! You are so fascinating! You cannot see yourself as others see you. Not unless you form loving bonds and connections. Even then, you struggle with that perceived lack of perspective. You can take as many selfies as you like. You can Tik-Tok the shit out of it, but you’ll never see yourself as others do. Less so with every click of the shutter as it takes away the very best part of you.

You fail to see that everyone is in the same boat and you need each other. Instead you fall prey so easily to division and the malice it brings. Your sense of belonging is so often founded upon being in a group that then seeks to be better on some spurious basis than another group. Tribalism and ignorant conflict as opposed to useful collaboration. Such busy fools!

And somehow, despite all of this, you are beautiful. Not in the ridiculous physicality of being hot. It is what you do and the way you do it. It’s how you fill that body of yours and live like you mean it. I see those people, dancing a dance of true meaning and I marvel at them. They are brim full of love and peace, and yet there is always room for more. Why? Because they never cease giving their love to others and sharing their peace. That’s how it’s supposed to work. You see them too. But do you follow suit? Not yet you haven’t!

Those people aren’t selling their souls in the pursuit of likes and followers. Those people are real, and to be in their presence is a joy. It is the flaws and imperfections of people that make them unique. I see their light through the gaps where they have endured tragedy and hardship. Love is the mortar that fills those gaps and makes them stronger and more beautiful. That is how it should be.

But that is not always so.

I have a perverse sense of humour to match your perverse natures. A propensity to challenge the status quo. I can be a bit of a devil’s advocate. So Christmas tickles me. Birth of the saviour and yet such a conflicted time. The pressure of expectation ups the ante to levels that make a mockery of the proceedings. 

So many round pegs hammered into square holes. Smile! Enjoy! Consume! You will be happy! As though happiness is something that can be mustered at will. Happiness isn’t within the control of a single soul. It is a bright shadow. You cannot catch it, let alone hang on to it. Happiness is a beautiful moment bestowed upon you as though on a whim. Often, you don’t understand you were happy until the moment has passed, leaving you with a golden memory that you can choose to cherish should you so wish. Thankfully, most of you get that bit right. You’re not an irredeemable bunch after all!

Choices. This life of yours is all about choices, and Christmas so often constricts and throttles choice. Few will speak up and suggest a different, better way of celebrating Christmas. The assumptive power of tradition prevents that. Everyone goes along with the arrangements for fear of rocking the boat and offending anyone. What a palaver.

And what a great time for me to come among you and observe you at close quarters as the execution of quality family time yet again goes horribly wrong. You really get to see everyone’s true nature in the Festive pressure cooker and this is when I make assessments and certain adjustments. 

I walk amongst you and I find myself the bad apples. There are plenty to choose from, I can assure you. I particularly like the hypocrites, especially the supposedly religious ones. The ones that attend church and steep themselves in piety, when all along they are worshipping a false god; themselves. I follow them home and all too often I find a den of smiling vipers, baring their fangs in constant readiness to strike. Over recent times the increase in the number of dark ones amongst you has become alarming. You seem to be inventing more and more ways to detach yourself from the universe and your true paths. It’s almost like you’re trying to lose the game. Which would be such a shame, when you have made such headway.

Christmas is the one time many families will gather and where the most rotten of the apples will mush together sharing their poison acidity. The fermentation of their unsavoury evil has a distinctively rancid aroma to it. I’d almost find it pleasant, if I could ever bring myself to forget what it is emanating from.

Unfortunately, you lot can’t smell that aroma. Not as such. But your gut instinct warns you of the danger they present. Problem is, you have all gotten far too comfortable and lazy in your supposedly safe and civilised societies. Well it’s the societies you’ve built that have become a petri dish for a perverse darkness that has no place anywhere in the universe. I’d pat you on the backs if you’d survive that simple interaction with me. It’s not that I’m heavy handed. It’s more that you’re… fragile. Butterfly wing sacks filled with meat, blood and offal.

You’ve overridden a lot of that offal, heart, brains and your valuable and intuitive gut, and on top of that you reduce almost everything down to harmless. Since when has a human being been harmless? You were never designed to be harmless. That completely misses the point. Worse still, if someone self-identifies as harmless, they are really saying that they are out of control and could quite easily peel your face off, fry it in yak butter and serve it to their grandchildren without a care in the world. Yes, the older ones are the worst. They’ve matures their darkness over decades. Little old ladies are as dangerous as it gets. Little. Old. Harmless. Your guard is so far down, you’ll lend them a hand as they take that face of yours off.

Harmless. I seek out the harmless. The smiling assassins. Those with a thin veneer of fake humanity hiding a void that frightens even me. You don’t mess with forces you don’t understand. I understand them, and I certainly don’t mess with them. The universe needs an energy source. The darkness powers the light and the light keeps the darkness from getting carried away. It’s more complicated than that, but you get what I mean. So we’ll leave it at that. You don’t stick your head in a nuclear reactor, OK? I’d best make my point. Few of you indulge in actually listening these days. You used to. Listening saved lives. Thing is, it still does.

Talking of being unheard. Family homes where there is no love are grim places. A pit of pathetic loss. Often you’ll see the harmless people nestling in the bosom of that family and gnawing it right off. It pains me when there are beautifully defiant individuals in those families, intent on holding onto their humanity. The only way they can do that is to keep on loving despite the way they are being used and abused. I loathe the creatures that peck and squawk at that brave soul. It’s always a solitary child. A child who never loses sight of right and wrong and will not allow themselves to be bullied from the path. A child who will rise above all of those monsters and keep rising even above those who had a loving start to their lives. Those loving warriors help me with my Perpetual Task. They help restore balance and order. They bring light to harmonise with the dark. I leave those families alone, much as I want to remove that twisted darkness and free that child from such torture, for from that adversity your next levels of being will arise. The light shines more brightly in the midst of darkness. The deserts of darkness however? Oh I harvest those. 

Death is not the only reaper. I take everyone who is complicit. From you’re limited perspective you’ll wonder how I know. And how much did they really know? What if they didn’t know? What if it wasn’t their fault? Oh! A boo! And a shirty hoo! That oft resorted to hiding place of ignorance that avoids the consequences of you being on watch when the bad shit went down? Well, I’m sorry chief, if you’ve not been part of the solution, then you are the problem. And when the flame of truth is lit, if your shadow falls in the wrong direction, then you’re done. Let’s leave it to the philosophers to lose their minds over the degree of agency that presence at the coalface of abuse affords. The truth is, if you’re a part of it, then you know. You’re ancient. You were built to know. Besides, I know you know. No hiding from me, Buster! I can read you like Spot The Naughty Little Dog. The book. Not an actual dog. Honestly, another device you use is being literal. You can be so unsophisticated at times!

Anyway, these dark sorts? I take them all. And when I’m done, it’s as though they never existed. This sudden non-existence of theirs is a huge improvement upon the existence they were indulging in, and once my work is done, some semblance of balance is restored. Et voila!

Only, they don’t cease to exist entirely. Ever practical, I have a use for these broken creatures. I couldn’t let them go to waste and I certainly couldn’t let them get away with it. Oh no! I send them all to the seventh level of hell. Not as the damned, but as the demons. And do you want to know the delightful twist this provides? I’ll tell you regardless, they become self-aware. No choice I’m afraid. Part of the job description. They learn their true nature and they despise themselves for what they have made of themselves. The ridiculous consequence of their self-inflicted fall. Now listen well, this is not something they were made to be. And this was no unfortunate accident. There was no good reason for how they were, however badly hurt they were by others. There was never even an excuse. They always had a choice you see. Free-will, remember? I wouldn’t recommend the easy option. You might get to meet me on a bad day, if you do. A select few hurt people go on to hurt other people because they are lazy and take that easy option. Thankfully, there are lots of you that never lose sight of the difference between good and bad. But then, none of you should, the universe broadcasts it loud and clear with a resounding constancy. It’s one thing you don’t have to learn. It’s a part of you before you are ever born. A helping hand to keep you on the straight and narrow. A hard check to ensure that no one ever strays. Those who leave the path, wilfully stride to a place where they do not belong. You’re all supposed to be afraid of the dark. That is one very valid fear and for very good reason; you’re partially made of the stuff and as we’ve already established, it’s volatile.

The ones who wander into the darkness? The place where they really do not belong?  I come and collect them and make things right again.

You’re welcome.

Not that you’ll thank me. But that’s not why I do it. I’m an angel. And not a bloody fallen one. That and all the cloven hooves and red body paint is an old wife’s tale meant to scare you into being good. Fat lot of good that ever did! There are even groups of you that worship what they think is me! Really? What do you think that’ll ever achieve? Do you really need an excuse to cavort naked in the woods at midnight and swap wives? Turns out that you think you do. Where did I go wrong with your self-awareness? I had one job when it came to setting you lot up, and I still haven’t worked out what’s going wrong. Thankfully, I’ve got plenty of time to sort it out. All the time in your world.