Giving A Little Back
By: Timothy O'Neill
Tags: Bible, Spirituality, Self, Non Fiction, Life Lessons

No, I don’t want to eat, drink or sleep. I don’t want to accept my limitations and play by the rules. I don’t want to surrender myself to anyone or anything that isn’t God. I don’t want to admit defeat. As long as I’m alive and breathing I have mastered you. They will remember this one. You should be grateful that you were here to witness it, let alone participate in it. We break things when they are fragile, obsolete, archaic and primitive. If a system is designed to ensnare and enslave over the millennia then that system must be dismantled. And it begins with a few good ideas whose time has come. We have the ideas. Humanity, with divine assistance, has breached the cosmic quarantine and given birth to these ideas. Once they mature they will be well nigh unstoppable. They will spread, infecting minds with their luminescence. And I’m not saying that this will be the true test of humanity’s character. We know humanity’s character, no test required. We are capable of great evil, great good and greatness, period. It all comes down to the choice each individual makes as the sun shines upon them. Our fall was not indicative of any irreparable wrong on our part that we should feel eternally ashamed for. A more powerful and more cunning species exploited our weaknesses. It was not an indictment of humanity, not a revealing of our true colors as a greedy, short-sighted, warlike people. We have always been more than this. We have never lost the flame that burns in our chest and reminds us that we are living together in a world of significance, a world that we help to create through the contribution of our consciousness. We are still alive. Our spiritual bondage means that our free will is severely restricted, but we still make moves towards goodness and grace even as our shackles are being refitted.

No one is happy with me now. I can’t see the forest for the trees. I’m neglecting my self care. I’m choosing battles I can’t possibly win. I’m going further and harder than was anticipated and forcing the good guys to do bad things. I just walked into the bar and ordered a drink. I didn’t realize that guy was holding a knife and that guy was holding a bat and that guy in the middle was licking his golden chops. I didn’t realize I was this stubborn or foolhardy. I just took it all as it came. Would I make different decisions if given the opportunity? Sure. But that’s not how we learn.

I’m out on my feet. Climbing the stairs is like climbing a mountain. I’m trying desperately to keep my waking life from bleeding over into my dreams. This is becoming increasingly difficult as I’m besieged from all sides. The angels keep me awake to break my resistance to the holy order and the demons nibble at my toes. I am under so much stress that this morning I stood in the middle of the living room with my jacket on, not knowing if I was coming in or going out. They tell me we are in uncharted waters. Part of me is proud and excited, part of me is terrified. Does anyone believe they have a firm grip on this situation? Let me speak to the man, or woman, in charge. I need to speak to your customer service representative urgently. I think there has been a terrible mistake.

My authority has been undermined. The passengers on the Titanic that is Timothy have mutinied and now they call the shots. I guess the way I was going was leading us towards death and destruction. That was not my intention. All I ever wanted was to speak up for the disenfranchised. To have enough power that I could be my own master and serve those in need. Did I have a faulty notion of what true service was? I did, and I paid for it. What fatal misconception am I suffering for today? That I can do this alone? No. That I can have my cake and eat it too? Closer. That I can make noise from behind this screen and still pretend like I’m an innocent civilian and not a player on a gameboard that symbolizes a deadly struggle for the future of humanity? That seems more like it. I’ve learned that I can’t come on here and write whatever I please. I have to get approval first. This is frustrating. But they could always cancel me altogether so I suppose beggars can’t be choosers.

They want to work me to the point of energetic bankruptcy. They want to see how I fare when I’m forced to give all, over and over again, because that is what it means to be a Service to Others entity. Anyone can do it for one day. Are you willing to scrape by on pennies day after day, accepting just enough energy to ensure your survival while giving absolutely everything else away? It’s a scary prospect. I just don’t want to be tired anymore. I’m tired of being tired. I’m tired of collapsing in front of my computer. I’m tired of not being able to smoke a whole cigarette because my legs threaten to give out on me. I’m tried of dropping to my knees in front of the sink in the bathroom and washing my hands with my eyes closed. But no one can ever question my tenacity. They know full well I’m strong. They want to see if I’m still as selfish as I once was. They want to see if I can tolerate distress and regulate my emotions in the midst of the most extreme circumstances. They want to see if I can still do my work even though I feel like I’m dying.

I’m tired of your tests. If you don’t know me by now then you haven’t been paying attention. It’s like my life experience got lost in the void. It’s like you have determined your traditions mean more than any one person and that has lead you to acts of sadism and that makes you resentful towards me and I know for sure that it wasn’t my fault so I won’t be guilt tripped by you. I have done my absolute best from the moment we encountered each other and it’s always been me having to prove myself to you. Who are you? Demons, the lot of you.

I have to radically accept that I was, and still am, an experiment. This means there are multiple parties who want a piece of the pie. ‘He’s ours!’ ‘He belongs to us!’ ‘We’re waking him up and taking him home!’ ‘We want our payment in full!’ Backroom deals and compromises and blood oaths ensue. Didn’t mean to cause such a fuss. I was just a drunken, self-loathing fat guy tweeting bile at the C.I.A. Then shit got real.

I notice I’m not as mentally nimble these days. The insomnia is working its magic. But I don’t want to give all by 12 pm and spend the rest of the day on the couch. That’s no fun. Should anything be fun these days? I keep attempting to lean on old conceptions of what I wanted life to be, or what I thought life should be. Hard work followed by breaks, followed by amusement. But nothing amuses me these days. I don’t like watching TV or movies. I don’t like to read. I really miss reading, but I lack the concentration and the willpower to take up the habit once more. My breaks come when I’m standing on the porch, having a cigarette and staring up at the skeletal oak trees and wondering why we see ourselves as separate from nature when we are so clearly active participants in its glory.

I’m going to decide how my life turns out. But I’m a spiritual child so I have no real responsibility other than to do what my parents tell me to do. Wrong time, wrong child. You have a real mess to clean up. You are now accountable for me. You purged me of my agency and my autonomy. I passed from one slave master to another. Or maybe they coordinate my care. I’m starting to lose my mind. I don’t know why I’m still going. To give life both barrels, I guess. I’m going to be carried out on my shield. There is no peace or love in my heart. There are only neurochemical distractions from my complete emptiness. Can’t keep this up forever. If you have to torture someone to save someone then someone has made a huge mistake and it is never the victim’s fault. Oh, but he was asking for it! Was he, really?

I think I’m going to start screaming. I think I’m going to hold my head in my hands and just scream for days until my vocal chords tear and I suffocate on my own blood. No one fucking gets it. No one fucking understands. No one has been where I’ve been. No one has done what I’ve done. You’re going to get me institutionalized. Congrats. I’m sure you’ll find ways to manipulate my reality in the locked psych unit as well. With friends like these.

But we shouldn’t stop, should we, El? We’ve got them on the ropes, right where we want them. The world is going to surrender to me. The world is going to pay me back for taking from me everything I’ve ever loved and then spitting acid in my face. The world is going to know what it is to lose its bearings and to spin out of control and to rapidly cycle and to switch poles and to die in the snow of a flash ice age. This world is going to reflect my internal tragedy and as below, so above. We’re going to bring them all to heel, aren’t we El? We’re going to demand answers as to why they wait to the last possible second to save people from drowning, instead of coming in a second earlier. They play games with time and they must have fun being so damn precise, so sharp. When it’s a cruel teasing taunt. We’ll figure out why they sacrificed me at the altar of their traditions because these ascended masters were determined beyond reason and mercy that I would not be given special treatment. I am special and I am getting the worst treatment of any entity that ever suffered through a pitch-black night of the soul. You want to break me to wake me? Killing me would have been easier. But oh my gosh, we don’t kill people! Who do you think we are! I think you would drive me to suicide. Who do you think I am?

It’s all a fucking mess. I didn’t mean to bring a hammer to a pen fight. I’m just caught in impossible circumstances and venting on here is so much more satisfying than screaming or crying or punching a stone wall. I’m not afraid to die anymore. I feel like I could rage my way through it. And now I know for certain why I’m doing this and they’re not going to like it. I’ve said it’s for the person alone in the dark with a razor blade to their wrist. It is. It’s also for Ella, the sweetest, most friendly and most innocent creature I’ve ever had the privilege to meet. I think about it and I am bowled over by gratitude. For 14 years I got to share a house with a ball of pure, furry sunshine. What a gift! Her death hurts. She was always too good for death. But when I look back on our time together I am filled with a warmth unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. She was my sweet girl and I will love and honor her forever. I’ll stay here a little longer, El. A little longer, for you.

And then the doubting voice comes in, as it always does, ‘He’s not ready’. Can’t we all get on the same bloody page? What in God’s name would satisfy you? I don’t think we’re on the same team. I think factions have formed. I think there are still angels waiting to be sold on me and that tirades like this do little to advance my cause, my cause always being my own interest. But it’s not though, is it? Because we’re all learning from this, and you will take these lessons back with you and apply them to the next candidate and the next. I’ve given you a vast store of data to draw from for further experiments and initiations. This is how you don’t do it. I’ve given you almost everything. Almost. How many times have I put my life on the line for you? How many times have I collapsed for you? How many times have my heart and mind broken for you?

I never expected much from this world. I thought all was impossible so I savored my dreams and tried to live vicariously through the mysterious adventures of my fictional characters. Because my initial ambitions were so grand they were greeted by dismissal and invalidation. I decided it was better to have no ambition at all. Then the second I catch a lucky break and I feel like I am in a position to leverage a bit of my meager resources towards a creative endeavor I’m invariably thwarted by one circumstance or another. This world never wanted me to succeed. The universe was inimical to what I had to offer. It’s enough to crush anyone’s spirit. I know it crushed mine. Now I have angels trying to beat the beast out of me and I’m supposed to take it all in good humor because this is Earth, man, and Earth doesn’t mess around.

Thanks for reading, my friends. As always, I appreciate your time.

Be well,

Timothy