The Omen

I try not to bang on too much about my own life. But enough is enough.

I’m frantically trying to escape the maniacal venom of born again fanatics. The nonsensical gibberish I could have ignored. I may even have turned a blind eye to the drugs. But what really gets me is the duplicity. Fair enough if you’ve turned over a new leaf. But pimping Jesus to cover your tracks at someone else’s expense; words can’t describe the injustice.

I guess sometimes it takes a closer look. Yet people buy the pretence. People who should know better. I’m tired of the facade, the lies, the psychotic behaviour. I’m tired of being harassed.

I make no apologies for who I am.

The atrocious irony is now I’m ostensibly the problem. I’m sorry; did my life get in the way of your dirty little secret? The enabling cronies can’t legitimately fault me, but are evidently in a flap the smarmy little poon might catch homosexuality. Yes, I heard it was going around.

It’s discrimination of epic proportions.

Apparently, I belong with ‘Satan’s armies’ There are legal options, but who needs the drama? I’ve done nothing wrong. They know their hypocritical ways may see me at a disadvantage. My, whatever happened to Christian charity?

And don’t practicing Christians go to church? Not necessarily every week. Once a year might be a start. I take it reading the Bible might help.

Seems you only need to own one. By these measures, I make a ‘better’ Christian. Why, I think I feel an exorcism coming on. Quick, clear the room while black smoke billows from every orifice and demonic forces abandon the host, off to target some other unsuspecting heathen.

But wait, there’s more.

All one apparently needs do is regurgitate some scripted babble about ‘accepting Jesus Christ as our saviour’ and halleluiah, glory be – free license to be an immoral douche. And they wonder why they’re middle-aged and still single.

I suppose while I can ultimately quell this poison from my life, for the real culprits; there’s no escaping the reflection in the mirror. Homosexuality is not a choice. Homophobia is. If you’re in a similar bind, take comfort in that. In my darker moments, there’s also some satisfaction in knowing they’re destined to a life of self-induced desolation.

Is that wrong of me?