TheManWho Saw Jesus



One of the nice things about NFT's is that multiple versions are just part of the process.



A good man


He was a simple man, a good man. Through he sometimes was prone to exaggeration. But was that a bad thing? Perhaps the fish wasn't quite as large as he described. Or maybe the meals prepared by Ms Chao was not as delicious as he exclaimed. What harm could there be in that? He never really contemplated it much anyway, why angst over little things?


His thoughts swam through his mind like his goldfish in a bowl. It was a little bowl, with very few fish. When he walked in the room they urgently flopped about begging to be fed like pavlov's dog. The sight of them splashing about in the bowl made him long to be on the water. In his boat on Mimosa lake, he fished for hours, guzzling beer and smoking weed. He often didn't get a single bite but always came home with an ice chest full of fish. He never returned from the lake with empty beer cans, they he filled with lake water and sent to the depths below. And of course he had never smoked weed ever. Sometimes for, “reasons”, he filled the ice chest with largemouth bass and catfish on days he hadn’t visited the lake.

It was all good, so long as no one else saw. He was a good man.

How could it be

otherwise? Anyone could see, if they did they would tell you. Nothing to see here.


But not really; deep down below that facade he permitted Ms Chao to see - behind the corner in the hidden spaces was another man. The real one, the one no one could see. Behind the primed surface, without pits nor scars. The polished gleaming white perfection dripped, and where it lay an insidious poisoning corruption ate away at the foundations. Like the saliva of some vile unnatural bone crushing creature - desperately evolved out of timeless starvation and surviving through the angrish and death of others. The stain of rotted blood and phlegm was his patina.


In his private online Diary…


He wrote of his hopes and dreams. He hoped for a world of people who all looked like him. All believed as he believed. A world of obedient women as God meant it to be. A righteous god fearing America unafraid to bring hellfire down on the scum of the earth. And he was as certain of this as surely as God was a reflection of his own image.

God!

Had marked them for they were the descendants of Cain. Marked them with their dark skin, their slanty eyes. Their blasphemous inferior religions! They all deserved to die and fall in love with the deepest pit of hell, to burn in unholy flames of Gods retribution for the very act of existence. He dreamed that he would be God's instrument of pain. YES!

......

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