"On What Is True," part 16

Despite the excruciating pain of moving his body composed of raw nerve-cluster, the man pushed himself forward to the only refuge he knows, his home. But upon arriving at its location he saw a structure unrecognizable to him, with bright light beaming out of every new window. He entered and was horrified to see the numerous corpses all with gleeful faces. Many were embracing as if having the time of their lives. "What could have caused all this gleeful death?" he wondered. The man then heard some groans come from a woman, doubled over and lifeless. He brought his ear to her mouth and she whispered in her last breaths: "You killed us, you killed us with your supernatural foolishness." As her life finally gave way, the man's attention was caught by the display-case spotlight. "That's me!" he thought, but what he saw first were the statues of his most shameful moments, oh the horror! These things he thought he had forgotten, now so regretfully he sees them played out one by one. He understood now why the crowd must have laughed, oh the humility, no the shame, the pure shame to know how so many saw these statues, and worse still, some depicted disgraceful moments that he thought no one knew about but here revealed that there in fact were unseen observers, oh to think at those moments he was spied upon by such sniggering witnesses, in many cases people he respected and admired! The spotlight then moved to his fears, "oh what a coward am I, afraid of such harmless things, no wonder I failed in faith to God's Will! What a pathetic fearful incurable nothing I am." All the while the man's mind ached with mental and emotional agony. He realized that his brain had also grown countless new emotionally and psychologically sensitive raw nerves like how his body grew its clusters too. Too many times in his life had the man suffered the worst disappointments, self-hatreds, depressions, heartaches, urges for self destruction, but never ever at this extraordinary level which his raw nerve-brain now made him feel. Then as the light moved to the statues depicting what he wanted to be and could have become but failed to be, he felt such self-disgust and self-hateful rage throughout his nerve-dense body and brain. He was on fire, head to toe. How dare he be such a failure! With what right did he do such things, have such fears, be so cowardly, choose to be his lesser, more despicable self? Then the light moved to the final statue depicting what he could have been. There was God, holding open the gates to paradise, and the man had made it inside, having so much pleasure and true mental and emotional happiness that the man could not even recognize it as himself, but all the signs were here that it indeed was he. That sight struck him down so hard he cracked the floor nearly open below him. It hurts me even to say it, but yes, my sweet, dear child, yes, it really happened so.