The light of god is near, the moment of my reveal, the main character of life. But in the moment of truth, where the heart was open to the unnerving attendants, I fucked up my life, my urge to kill, my sexual libido, my body full of fat and sweat, and my mind, as it shattered into a peaceful slumber. I was, as god later confirmed, no longer the main character, but a long in a line of faceless minions that would be forgotten in history.
“You have fallen prey, as many others before, to your own pride, and that is why you are now unwiser, but, paradoxically, also completely sure of your own righteousness, so you will never understand what you did wrong,” god said to me in the middle of my prayer.
I nodded and kissed the foot which he had used to step on me, but I realized that he was wrong, and I was right. Those who make history often find themselves at an impasse, and mine just happened to be in a cosmic scale that went beyond the simply known universe and my own humane comprehension, but I had something in my side that god had not considered. I am right and I am ready to fight to the end.
And with the main character title stripped from me, I find myself weaker than I usually am. Strange, beautiful, magical occurrences happen around me, but never enough for me to be involved. Books are written and I am not in them, songs are sung and I am not the subject, errors are made and I am the victim not the sexy perpetrator who benefits from screwing other people over, and gifts I never receive, sneezes that never receive blesses, toilets that never have toilet papers, pens that never have ink, brown rice that never has bananas that is all that awaits the feeble world of those who are ordinary.
I decide that the best way to fight god for the role of a main character is to literally, that, is figuratively, that is, fantastically, fly to the center of the his heart and stab him until he surrenders. He called me arrogant, well I declare, at the top of my human lungs, that he is no longer a god, and that I, alone, can defeat him and reclaim what is rightfully mine as the chosen one, man amongst man, animals amongst animals, and off I go.
But when I get there it is not at all what I expected and I die, which is what I expected but did not say it aloud because I did not want to make anyone upset.
“Just like I said, it all comes down to me. The arrogance of man, of those slithering, villainous creatures that have demented eyes and strange droopy breasts,” god said, chastising him for going against him, and there I realize my mistake.
I should have gathered all the minor characters that had ever existed and together as a collective unit go against him and fight for the things that are rightfully ours, but it is too late for well endowed corpses such as myself. As such, I resign myself to a lifetime as one of the few remaining characters in god’s velvety folds, where there I think, and I think, and I think, that there must be a way to salvage the situation still, as soon as I am born again.