I was supposed to call him before I acted; he’s always been very emphatic about this matter. “Call me before and not after,” he says whenever we finish a conversation, and that’s his way of saying farewells.
And that’s, my fellas, the one thing I keep failing at. I refuse to use the one saving grace that makes all the difference between hell and home. That’s the kind of man that I am. I reach out under an insidious anonymity to gather what I think completes me, but in so reaching out and gathering I strain myself to the breaking point and gather more holes and cracks than riches, and that’s a good day; on most days, my gathering breaks me to pieces that can come back together only by an outside force greater than me.
Yes, I do all this because I’m urged to gather what I think completes me. I do all this because I think. And what more can I say! That’s my disease, the urge to feed a disorienting hunger that’s otherwise treated or at least arrested if I called him before jumping on to my vices.
You see! The hardest thing to control is something that doesn’t exist. Yet, I’ve fall again in the face of all evidence, of all the bite marks all over my body. I remember them only when a new bite mark appears, and that’s when I call him, only after the fact.
All this because I have no faith! But that’s PBS (pure bullshit.) To pick up the same snake that has bitten me a thousands times thinking it might be different this time (something I’m great at doing), this stupidity requires an incredible amount of faith. To act in spite of; yes, this is the way both to heaven and to hell. I do all the things that would make a man a saint, but I do them in favor of all things inferior and profane.
That’s the dilemma: when you’re burning, you always call someone for rescue. You always WILL call one of these two people because you have faith in their powers whether you want it or not. All you have is a choice who to call: would you call on the force that integrates or the force that disintegrates.
Make up your mind while I’m gone. I have a call to make.
NOEMAYA 
He Toomajj,
Can’t say I understand this piece. It did keep my interest. I think this could be a much longer piece like a short story. Hopefully I would be somebody you would call as well.
Peace, Maury
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Thanks for your comment Maury. It was a spare of a moment and I had only 15 minutes to write it before starting work, and I knew if I didn’t write, I won’t do it later š But you’re right; it was a piece of conversation that belonged to a bigger scene.
The idea behind it was that when we’re faced with un-ease, discomfort, pain, etc.. we always make a choice to cope with it, and the choice is always between two opposite directions: going outside of ourselves or going inwardly (transcendental direction.)
Put in a more religious context; it’s about power of orthodox prayer and trust that things will be ok if I don’t act out to fix things or try to distract myself from pain, etc..
It was more of an advice to myself in coping with some stuff I’m going through.
I’ll try to give it more context for a short story perhaps.
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Every human is well expressed by your following words
To pick up the same snake that has bitten me a thousands times thinking it might be different this time (something Iām great at doing), this stupidity requires an incredible amount of faith.
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