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12 May 2007, 12:09 pm / Other
Woe to the conquered
Today, the greatest man I ever knew and loved has passed. He may not be a good man to many; he had six children with three different wives, he had affairs while he was with each wife, he was sarcastic, a lot of people hated him, a lot of people feared him. He was the King of the town in which he lived. But as he was these things, he loved his family. He stayed true to his family and he would give his very life to protect his family. And for that, the people respected him. My father passed away. My father, the one I talk about so much; my father, the one I talked about with such fondness; my father, the one I talked about with pride. He has escaped many things in his life--bullets from would-be assassins, ambush, etc.--he was the Julius Caesar of my world. That is how much I love my father. I looked up to him, he was untouchable--no man could bring him down, very few had the ability to take him down. And the people that had that ability feared my dad enough that they would not lift a finger against him. He was, in every sense, a "A Gaius of the Julii, called Caesar". The people loved him, some hated him; the more affluent and powerful hated him; but they all had one thing in common and that is that they respected him. All he did, he did for the good of Hoi Polloi. "When come such another?" Never, I say, never. Only in one life can one have a father, and only in one life can one have such a father. Now, half of who I am is missing. God is sadistic... Did I have this coming? Surely, we all must face that our fathers and mothers will die. Life, after all, is a temporary thing. Death is not the end but the beginning, right? Well, let me tell you what it means for me. Death is the beginning of something, alright... the beginning of something very, very ugly for someone like me whose mind and personality is hardly attractive already. Our greatest foe is within ourselves and is ourselves I joked, every now and then, about how I await my father's death that I may inherit his material belongings. I joke because he is yet young; I joke because he is healthy (if it weren't for his cough that oddly resembled Consumption). I never worried. I expected my father to live a long, long life. I expected him to be immortal, to be invincible. In all my years with him, he never lost a fight, he was never injured by a fight, and has survived equally many ambushes as his brother, my uncle. How could my father fall, right? He was absolutely healthy. This week we made plans. I was to petition my dad's emigration to America. His sister, my Aunt, owns a lot of agencies in California and my dad and I were going to manage them as partners because my Aunt is moving to Las Vegas, Nevada. Everything was perfect. I would run the family business in California myself while I wait for the process for my dad to come to America. When he arrives, we run the business as partners. We had an iron-clad business, we cover everything: Law (his brothers, as well as himself were lawyers), Engineering (his brothers were Engineers as well), and Medicine (His sisters were Doctors, Nurses). (My cousins were all lawyers and nurses, also. They are very affluent people.) But, as I should have expected, all plans can never be perfect. As it turns out, I cannot petition him just yet because I am not Twenty-One (21) years old. "That's alright, that doesn't change our plans; it just means we'll have to wait a couple more years." my Aunt and Uncle said to me. I was happy. A couple more years and my father and I can be partners again. We can start our empire anew in America. After all, if Rome didn't dream about expansion, then not a single person would think, "Rome", when asked for the greatest empire in all history. But, as the title suggests, my father would be ambushed by an enemy that no one, not even he, saw coming. My Julius Caesar, my father, invincible, infallible was struck down by his own body as Caesar was by his friend. He had a stroke. That's what I was told when my Uncle from California called me. "Your dad might not make it through the night," he said. I remained quiet. I kept my answers short, "Yes," "Okay", "Uh-huh". Quickly, I called the Philippines, I called my dad's phone. My brother answered, "Patrick, how is dad?", I asked. "He's gone. He passed away just a few moments ago." My heart broke, my face could no longer hold itself. My lips broke into a frown, and the dams of my eyes broke. My dad, my infallible, invincible, immortal dad died of a stroke. He escaped everything, he escaped all harm from all his enemies; but he could not escape himself, and he could not escape his greatest enemy. As stated, God is sadistic. He takes pleasure in ripping away joy (not just my own) and hope when they shine the brightest. I've always believed in God, many people don't see that. I am Catholic by the blood the flows in my veins, by the baptism, by my parents, by my own choice, by my own belief. I thought that if I kept God out of my life, He would stay out of mine. Why not? He wouldn't impose himself. God does not affect free will. The Devil knows what you love and desire most and taunts you with it as on offer when you feel furthest away--when you have all but given up on achieving it; God, on the other hand, takes it away from you when you come closest to it. Is it a test of faith? Maybe. But I'm not one for it. If God is so insecure about his people's faith that he has to test them, instead of putting faith in them also, then he is not my God. The end is the beginning? Yes. I believe in God, I will continue to believe in God. Why? Because you cannot hate what you do not believe exists. Therefore, I believe in God, but I hate God. I will not hate Christians, they are who they are. But I hate Christ. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, I swear my undying hatred. And I shall carry this bitterness, this hatred with me to my deathbed, to my grave, to the very depths of Hell. DENIAL- I denied that my father was truly dead. But I've accepted that. ANGER- You can bet your life I'm angry. BARGAINING- There is no bargaining with a God who takes pleasure in ripping away the very humanity of what I am. DEPRESSION- There's no point in being depressed. ACCEPTANCE- I've accepted it, and have made my ultimate decision: I hate God. I once wanted to rule the world to embrace and unite it. That the world will have peace for the God I believe in. I didn't plan to force my beliefs down everyone's throats, but I wanted understanding between every belief. I now want to rule the world for one purpose and one purpose alone. If I kill all of humanity, then there will be no one left to believe in God, and if no one believed in God, then God will ultimately disappear, and I will have my revenge. Would my father be proud of my decision? Probably not. It's not my father's fault that he died. It's no man's fault. And if it's no man's fault, then it is God's fault. Vengeance is God's, but God wouldn't take revenge on himself. So I'll do it. Someone has to do justice. Think of it as V standing up to Adam Sutler. That is all, KS From Mortality to Memory,
You, my father, will live
Forever.
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