for when you meet Saint Peter

I’m not going to talk you out of hurting yourself today. I keep a long list of motivational quotes in a journal, but those won’t do you any good right now. If all living required was a motivational quote now and again, we wouldn’t face so much loss and destruction.

I’m also not going to tell you that you have options. I don’t know if you do. Maybe, the pain is too much this time and you are too weak. If this is the last thing you ever read, I wish you well on your journey to the great unknown.

I’m a Catholic, albeit a very conflicted one. I believe in heaven and hell. Catholics generally believe that those who die by suicide are sent to hell or at least purgatory. I don’t buy it.

Jesus Christ is obviously a central figure to Catholicism. He was our Messiah who had divine power, but choose to live as a mostly broke preacher in the desert. As the story goes, he was publicly executed alongside petty criminals. According to Catholic theology, he could have saved himself, but instead accepted his death.

I bring this up because Jesus had more fight in him; i.e., he was divine. However, he carried his own cross to his crucifixion, which was orchestrated by those who betrayed him.

You might have more fight in you too, but maybe your cross is too heavy to bear and your fate has been determined by those who have betrayed you. Who am I to tell you that you can walk another mile? Maybe, this is where your suffering ends.

I cannot blame you for opting out as it has crossed my mind before. I’m what you might consider an idealistic cynic or a cynical idealist, depending on how you look at it. I see so much beauty in the world that I’m constantly disappointed. I hold so much love that I’m constantly humiliated. I haven’t met many people like me. I suspect many of them are already dead.

I won’t tempt you with fanciful ideas about the world. What even would I say? Think of all the friends you could make? Eh, they would probably stab you in the back. What about all the foods you could try? Probably all tastes like chicken anyway. Imagine falling in love! I’ll believe that one when you give me a name, location, and date.

I have no idea if your life will get any better. For reference, mine seems to get worse every month. I do not believe that my life will improve in any practical sense. I’m more curious than anything else at this point.

I find it a lot easier to be passively curious. It hurts a lot to hope and dream. It hurts a lot to care. I live in a time and place where making a lot of money is the single most important quality a person could have - if you could even call that a quality. If you don’t make a lot of money, then you should try to convince a lot of people to have sex with you. That will make you cool somehow and being cool matters for some reason. I don’t know the reason, but I’ve been told it just does. That’s my entire culture wrapped up for you: fuck bitches and get money. It’s not exactly a nurturing environment for hoping and dreaming.

So, I understand why you want out. Who would pick life for herself?

Imagine trying to sell your own life on an informercial:

Are you ready to feel a consistent dread of inadequacy?

Is loneliness your favorite emotion?

Do you ever vacillate between depression and anxiety on a daily loop?

If so, then life on Earth is for you! Give us a call at 1-800-SAD-SACK and we’ll set you up with a body that will be heavily criticized, a family that judges you, and superficial, unreliable friends. It only costs $1 million for a home, $250,000 for an education, and $100,000 for plastic junk you won’t remember buying. But, if you call now, we will offer you a package deal for $400,000! Don’t have $400,000 lying around? Don’t worry! Just sign all your rights away to a nondescript Wall Street executive and you’ll be on the hook for 30% interest until you die. Call now because this offer won’t last long!

Who would ever sign up for this? Certainly not an idealistic cynic or a cynical idealist. It’s a scam! We’ve been duped! We live in a culture that tells us cars with doors that flip upwards instead of swing outwards are the ultimate achievement. We are expected to condemn anyone who disagrees with us over which politicians are corrupt. Here’s a hint: it’s all of them! We are the carcass and the vultures eating the carcass. This isn’t the circle of life; this is the cannibalization of life.

You want out. How could I blame you? Frankly, it would be more alarming to love this planet than to loathe it. I just have one quick favor to ask. When you meet Saint Peter, could you put in a good word for me? I’ve covered most of my bases, but a referral couldn’t hurt. I know we haven’t met, but I’d like to meet you up there. I’d like to meet you because you read my words this far and considered my point of view this far and that’s more than most people have offered to me in terms of time and patience. So, when we meet in heaven, I’d like to repay the favor and listen to your story to learn why you couldn’t walk that mile with your cross. I would have liked to listen to that story here on Earth, but I respect that you already made up your mind.

Unless, you’re curious too. Not hopeful - no, no, no, sir, not hopeful at all. But, curious? I’m certainly curious about you. Curious about why you’re still reading when you already made up your mind. There’s no inspirational message here; I already told you that. Curious about why you have to get to the end of this message when it won’t matter soon anyway. Unless, of course, it does matter to you and we’re just two idealistic cynics (or is it cynical idealists?) adjusting our crosses so that we can walk a little lighter. Either way, I’ll see you when I see you. And, don’t forget about that referral!

xo