weekend warriors

 I'm still not used to the cold.

I could feel the dry, frosty air biting every inch of bare skin that I foolishly left exposed. My high heels clicked over the red carpet of cracked concrete. But what spectacle was I attending? Tall buildings and miniature skyscrapers boasted from the sides of the too-wide streets. Wide enough for a ox cart to turn around, is what Brigham Young intended. There were no oxen here, no rickety wooden handcarts or carriages. There were expensive cars purchased with blood money; with the tithes of the righteous saints. The streets were flanked with M3s, M3 coupes, M3 convertibles, M6 coupes, M6 convertibles. Standing guard outside the church office buildings, there were the 4-wheel models BMW X5 M & BMW X6 M.

Suddenly, a bible verse echoed in my head and that ancient guilt resurfaced, curdling the contents of my stomach like lemon juice poured into heavy cream.

“And again I say unto you, It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God.” (Mt. 19:24)

But, who am I to point out hypocrisy? I fancy myself an atheist but I spend some Sundays sitting in the back of the spanish-language catholic mass at the Cathedral de la Madeleine. I feel moved by religious architecture and I feel immediately reverent the moment I step inside any basilica or abbey.

I prayed yesterday for the first time in ten years. my prayers were different this time -- I wasn't begging for safety or for understanding or for patience or for my family to stay together or for my father to be "fixed".

No, calling it a "prayer" is a misnomer. It wasn't reverent or pious. It wasn't respectful or ritualistic. It was more like a challenge, a throwing-down-the-gauntlet with the universe. The abyss and I have been having a prolonged staring contest, and instead of standing unblinkingly still, accepting the absurdity of this meaningless life, I decided to get angry. I was screaming, enraged. I gnashed my teeth.

This is Sisyphus, abandoning his rock.

I will not accept a death sentence. I will embrace my life sentence.

This is me, declaring the following:

Universe, I don't give a FUCK about your absurdity, about the futility of life and death, about the lack of good in people. Call me a reformed nihilist, whatever.

I'm making my own meaning. I'm living my life in a way that will make my death have gravitas. I'm being good, for the sake of being good, whatever that means.

I may not be able to believe in anything else. I can, however, believe in myself.