Vignettes of Ruin and...

Oblivio & Despero (Twin Gods of Despair)

In Sloth on February 19, 2011 at 4:08 pm

Oblivio is the God of Utter Detatchment. He is a powerful deity, an arch-god, who oversees lesser gods like Spectoris and Intoxicatus. Unlike them, he is not bound to any method of commanding devotion- but their work often serves his purpose.  There is no definitive sermon that upholds his greatness.

This is because so many of us worship him, day and night, without even realising we are doing it. It is our ceaseless efforts to escape our suffering that feed his ego. I am no different.

I am perhaps even a model devotee. It starts when I put on my make up in the morning. Expressionless, I dab away the redness caused by tears that I could not even feel rolling down my cheeks. A trick of eyeshadow disguises exhaustion. By the time I am finished, even I believe the lie, and I am the one telling it. I look fine, therefore I am, Amen.

Oblivio’s hand is on my left shoulder.

I catch the train into work. I always play my ipod, staring out the window, watching rooks take flight from telephone masts as the trains darts past. The rooftops look like they belong to an older, more industrial era. Probably so much history behind these houses in this part of town. But I don’t care about them. And I have not heard a single piece of music from my ipod, even though I am playing my “favourites” playlist. I walk the rest of the way to work, with Oblivio shadowing me.

Sometimes I get coffee. It never tastes how I hope it tastes, but I drink it anyway. Sometimes I get a plum and almond muffin- I know these to be delicious. The warm sweet aroma of a fresh bake draws me in, the cake is still warm in it’s wrapper. The first bite is truly heavenly. A few minutes later, it is gone and I realise I never savoured any of the subsequent bites and that I barely even remember eating it. But Oblivio has enjoyed the moment immensely.

I walk through the doors of the workplace and immediately I am smiling and asking how everyones weekend was, and gushing over the latest photos of their children and their pets. When they oblige me with the same sort of questions, I answer quickly.

“Everything was fine. But enough of that. We have so many orders to process today!”

It is true I am hiding the reality of my situation, but it doesn’t even make me falter. It is as natural to me as breathing is. So adept am I at this facade of normalcy that I barely even remember what happened anyway.

(The drink. The drugs. The lies. The doubt).

On the way home, I have often see serious road accidents. I once saw a double decker bus driven into the body of a tram. It was surrounded by ambulances and police. People were lying on stretchers. Others clutched the sides of their head with blood spilling through their fingers. I stepped on glass that had been sprayed out from impact, beyond the police, cordoning off the area. Spectators clamoured around, morbidly fascinated. I felt nothing. Their broken bones did not affect me. Their cries for help did not reach my heart. The raw sound of trauma, blistering my eardrums, I tell you, I felt nothing. I just wanted to get on that train and home again, to whatever crash awaited me there.

(The panic. The fear. The torment. The chaos).

When I get to the house, I look after the dog and I make the dinner. If Vincent has not succumbed to the powers of his favourite god, then we laugh, we cuddle the dog, we eat good food, we go on a walk, we watch a DVD. But when Vincent returns from pilgrimage…

…well. I can never recall all of the details. And once it passes, it is more difficult to remember how things went so wrong in the first place.

(The screaming. The anger. The tears. The vomit).

I am Oblivio’s walking vessel upon this Earth. He protects me from my suffering, he prolongs the inevitablity of my fate. But he really doesn’t care about me. He is completely indifferent to me. Because when it matters most, he abandons me to Despero (the God of Unbridled Sorrow that Often Causes Embarrassment to Others), and I cannot leave the bedroom. All this feeling and memory is suddenly overwhelming and something as simple as a genuine smile full of hope from the face of the same person who has torn me down with him time and time again is the saddest, most bittersweet thing any god could ever have created.

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  1. My friend. I have two things to tell you today.The first one i’ll have to ask your forgiveness but i gotta say it: It’s a lousy god this one. I hope you see it in time and fight to purge him from your life and you purge the things he makes you not see. The second thing i want to say is that this is amazing writing. I already told you that and i mean it. You should be a book writer. I’m sure of that. Maybe that’s your ticket to the pyramids of the sun and the moon.By the way everything in that city has two versions. They believed as in duality of all things.

  2. wonderful writing. terribly sad. they travel together, these gods. and if you find a way to shrug them off, they leave together. I know.

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