Flight Plan

I can’t get much any near or far place without tripping over some god all righteous indignant up in my face over how I can’t swallow an ounce of their kind grace without gagging.

Listen, o lord, I’ve heard one too many times what you really think of me, what a waste of time and matter and energy you think it was for you to create me, what kind of shit you really believe I am, how I’m not worth the wave of your pinkie finger to damn, and those flight plans you have for me straight to your hell.

So look here, o holy one, reject me as one of your own, kick me out of your sacred presence, order me to go and never come back, fine, but then don’t be so surprised – how awfully less than omniscient of you! – when I make up my own mind where to go. So yeah, act all kind and generous and loveydubby sticky sweet, whatever divine virtues you might need to keep your acolytes believing in you. I ain’t rejecting or judging your commandments or your christ or your sacraments or whatever you demand of your particular truth, I’m sure that all works for you and I don’t deny your beauty and glory and how superior you are to me. Maybe save up your love for those you don’t hate so much as you do me.

So then, o high and powerful one, preach to everyone what a sinner I am and condemn me to hell and tell me to leave your nice universe, and I’ll tell you what, I’m going to claim the freedom to make up my own mind about my own travel arrangements. About my own destination. About my own reasons for living there.

See, a close friend who’s been there has got me into a bed & breakfast on the north shore of the island, none of those strings so tightly tied around my hands and throat and crotch when I pretended not to know what you were telling everyone else about me. And an even closer friend has stepped in to watch over the baby while I am there, and for me to take as long as I need, none of the conditions I had to always fail so inevitably when I tried keeping you happy. And our host here has paid my way there and back without demand that I ever use that return ticket, no trash talk about what a waste I might be if I just take his money and not come back. Make that two round trip tickets, one for me and the other for my life partner, who is risking a great job and more so she can accompany me, without making me feel guilty and in debt to her for some grand sacrifice. And even my mother, who has better claim to the right to be rid of me than you or any other god or goddess you can name, it is her blessing I go with, so save your curses against me for some more deserving sinner.

So that hole you so graciously reserved for me in the hell you sent me off to will have to go empty another eternity, vacant until you can find someone else to throw away. I’m heading to the island. I’m going to meet my father’s family. I’ve made my own flight plan.

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