Artificial Representation

Artificial Representation

“Over the mountains and the sea, Your river runs with love for me and I will open up my heart and let the healer set me free”

I hear these words stream out of my mouth in a sort of apathetic monotone. I’m not even comprehending what I’m singing. The switch was turned to ‘on’ and my vocal chords began vibrating in a systematic, pre-programmed manner, thus churning out words that my mouth allowed to depart my body. Each syllable is pronounced, leading directly into the next without any need for thought or comprehension. My heart, mind and soul are uninvolved in this process. This is solely a noise game and the bare necessity of organs are on it. There’s no need to bother the rest of my body. This one is covered.

“I’m happy to be in the truth and I will daily lift my hands, for I will always sing of when Your love came down.”

I look around. Some seem so devout about this. You can see in their faces that they are truly buying into it all. When I see these people, I struggle between judgment and envy. The woman just to my left appears to believe, truly believe in the words we’re all singing together. Her eyes are closed tightly, her hands are outstretched and with each word that drips off of her lips, she seems to become more entrenched in excitement and joy. She is smiling genuinely. She is flush with color. She exudes a passionate investment in each individual syllable she’s singing. She turns upward and her smile continues to grow as though this single second, this very moment, is the most important and uplifting single time of her entire existence. I find myself hating her. I hate myself. I envy her.

“I could sing of your love forever. I could sing of your love forever.”

I can’t help but ask myself why I’m here still. Expectation? Fear of loneliness? Habit? What would happen if I just stopped coming? Would I be missing anything? These people in this room all think they know me, but few of them have any idea of who I truly am. Of what I’m truly capable of. Sure, they would all miss me at first. Then my absence would become extended and questions of concern would soon turn into statements of judgment. Someone would reach out to me and attempt to save me. They would call and pray and act sincerely interested in where I stand on my journey. I know this script. I’ve used it myself on many friends before. I would call them, we’d do coffee, I would express concern. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

“I could sing of your love forever. I could sing of your love forever.”

I am a Christian by proximity and convenience. I do not believe. But, I do feel pain. I am a fake. I don’t know how much longer I can do this.

Yet, still, it continues.