Believers Redux

“Believe in me, help me believe in anything; cause’ I wanna be someone who believes; and I want to be someone to believe” — – Counting CrowsMr. Jones

Even before there was consciousness he wanted to believe; believe in the light coming through the womb wall of the black-haired flamenco dancer. It took all his believing to push himself out into the unknown. When he arrived the first thing he believed true was the unconditional love of his mother.

After that it was easy to believe; to believe in everything. The Church was next. It had the cathedrals and the robes and jewelry and all those pious believers. It had the Pope on his throne in the Vatican with his own army. But then the priests turned out to be fucking the kids; the first big lie.

Next it was the State with its government by the people and its courts and its cops with their badges and all that power he wanted to believe in. Then came the consciousness revolution of the 1960’s challenging every one of the institutions and moral principles and he saw that all that power came out of the barrel of a gun; exposing each lie upon which society was based and all of that grandeur was shot to hell. 

Then business was the engine to believe in with its great gross domestic product and the building of magnificent things. He saw  the lie this time even more fleshy and jaundiced; saw that the monied few fueled the war machine and wrecked destruction on the many and greed was cancer and poverty the greatest violence. The lies stacked up so high he needed to grow wings just to stay above it. So he did; and he flew and he burned.   

And then she was there. Finally he found Love; and surely this was the Holy Grail he could believe in. When he found her music played and magic was made real and all mysteries were revealed. When the clouds parted and the true sky shown through he saw that hers had been the biggest lie of all. She had told him that she cared about him.

And so he came to know just in time that the only thing he could believe in was that very first thing; that dancers belly from which he sprang and him self; and then he knew the truth. He must become someone worthy of believing.


About circusinpurgatory
Nick Masesso Jr’s fictionalized short stories, poetry and prose have been published in the Starry Night Review, Elegant Thorn Review, Language and and Vagabond Press; the Battered Suitcase. His latest book “Armor of Innocence” and first book “Walking the Midway in Purgatory, a Journal” are available on-line and through bookstores.

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