The Tragedy of Man Pt. II

The day is Sunday and I am going to die. I wait for death to grab me while sitting at a rusty park bench with its rotting wood. I look at the dying trees that are left with no leaves, at the black roses that litter the place, at the filthy pond that has a greenish tinge and at the swans greased with black oil. I saw the countless throngs of unfortunate people that are living here. I can see in their eyes the wish for death to end the suffering that they feel while they breathe the heavy air. I can see envy as they look upon an old man like me who is leisurely waiting for a time to die.

I remember the times in my childhood where dying was such a great tragedy. We never wished for death during those days for living was truly a wonder. But, alas, how time flies. The memories of old are simply forgotten like a whisper in the wind. In this time and age, they hold a wake when you are born while they celebrate and feast when you are dead. Even I am happy that I will die soon and I hope that it is today. All of my colleagues congratulated me as my doctor delivered the news with a balloon. Today, there is no rain, no sunshine, no moonlight, no blue seas, no beauty, and no love. Happiness is but a memory and only a few remember it. Humanity has lost direction. We are now just going in circles. The only hope that we hold dear in our hearts is the afterlife, the light at the end of the tunnel as you travel to the place where happiness reigns and despair is no more. At the very least, even if the big man up in the sky has abandoned us, he still gave us the afterlife.

As I was contemplating, It suddenly occurred to me that there is a mass today at the last church left on Earth. I stood up and quickly ran towards the church, hoping that I won’t be late. I wondered, while walking, if the big man up in the sky still hears our hope and prayers but casually ignores them or did he just shut His ears to the woes of mankind. Does He watch the tragedies of our lives like a TV drama so that he can entertain himself? Does He pity us or laugh at us?

No answers came to my head as I arrived at the church. When I entered, I saw that it was deserted with only a couple of people attending the mass. The aura inside resembles that of a neglected cinema where people visit not to watch the movie but to do other activities that are inappropriate of the place. I look at the people around but it seems that they are not listening to the words of the priest. I look around and I saw people gossiping, sleeping, and asking for alms. But what really caught my surprise was the couple in the confessional on the brink of coitus and the line of men that seems to be waiting for their turn.

I sat down on an empty bench and I was shocked when I felt a white, oppressive substance on my hand that came from the edges of my seat. I did not know what it was and God knows that I do not want to know. I fidgeted on my seat as I attempted to the empty words that the priest is mumbling. It is that moment when I realized that the priest is no longer serious about his job as a preacher. He only does this so that he can protect himself from poverty. The expression on his face is that of resigned anguish and impatience as he rushes the gospel and the homily so that he can proceed with the offertory.

The mass progressed and the offertory happened without any incident. It was during the offertory that he spoke coherently and talked about the importance of giving and generosity. His eloquence would have shamed any politician as he implored us to give to the church. Everyone in the church succumbed to the power of his speech and gave generously. Even the couple having coitus inside the confessional stopped briefly as the male grabbed his wallet and offered a few bills. The priest looked happier as he saw the bags of coins and bills placed in front of him. After that, his eloquence suddenly disappeared as he mumbled again, more relentless this time, as he rushed the mass so that he can proceed with the communion.

As the communion was occurring and the people inside the church lining up to take the holy host as if it was some kind of responsibility you had to do when entering the church during mass, a sacristan walked towards me and asked:

“Why are you not taking the communion, sir?”

I plainly replied “I’m sorry; child, but gods are not a part of my diet.”

Astounded by my straightforwardness, he asked “Why, then, have you come in this hallowed halls?”

I once again answered with simplicity “I have to thank someone with my impending death and I think that your god is the deserving recipient of my gratitude. Furthermore, I am bored and the scenery inside the church is more entertaining than what any medium of entertainment can provide.”

Angered, the sacristan said “That is blasphemy, you fool!”

“No, that is reality.” I calmly replied.

Irritated by my presence, the sacristan walked away in quick strides. I resumed observing the mass and the surroundings. As I was distracted by my conversation, I did not realize that the mass is already finished. I saw the priest go down from the altar and proceeded to the convent. As he was on his way, I saw him take the hand of a young, scantily clad woman with thick make-up. The priest smiled menacingly as they hurried towards the door of the convent.

I exited the church with a more fervent desire to die as I witnessed what mankind has grown into. Even I took part in the disgusting events that occurred inside the church. I went to my car so that I can leave and head for home where my family and my servants are preparing for my feast of death. I started my car and drove away from the church. Its destroyed facade disappearing from my view as I drove farther.

As I was nearing my house, the stoplight turned red and I stopped my car directly in front of the light. While waiting for the light to turn green, I felt strange pain in my chest and the pain grew as the seconds passed. I sat there, clutching my chest, as the seconds felt like years as the red light turned to green as if to mock me of my inability to move. The vehicles behind me started to blow their horns in impatience and one vehicle passed me and the owner gave me the finger and cursed me though I heard nothing. I felt weak and I felt that my time has come at last. My sight darkens as I stared into the green light that mocks me and, slowly, it disappears and I see nothing but the darkness of the abyss. I drew my last breath and, I realized, there is no light at the end of the tunnel.