Existential Agony

PRESCRIPTION FOR THE DOWN OVER MARLBORO REDS AND LUGAO titan amado ona tandoc iii, m.d. "...we are the middle children of history. we have no great war. we have no great depression. our great war is a spiritual war. our great depression is our lives..." –Tyler Durden, Fight Club please tell me why i need to see god in the gruel on my soup bowl and taste him in several easy pieces like chopped pig intestines, or inhale him into my lungs the way i do cigarette smoke or the scent of blood in the stretchers and makeshift beds i face each fucking day. the yearning does me no good. the waiting helps little to ease the depression taking root in my brain. for he does not appear for me the way he reveals himself to other people who blindly follow him like mice to the pied piper of hamelin or in a thousand other nameless places where false prophets thrive. not in this meal. not for ten pesos. not for the cancer already beginning in my throat. not in the life so easily snuffed out by a kitchen knife through the liver and spleen. not for the mother lamenting the dead child inside her womb. not for the phantom limb, the back ache or the angina. not for sentimentalities like these will god open my eyes, if he does have power over me and this miserable stethoscoped life. he is as busy as me. i am busier than him. i think he is contented just watching three fourths of the world in its mass hysteria over his second or third coming, the way i am contented relishing this cheap breakfast, psyching my mind to forge ahead with the rest of the day’s stupidities with the straightest of faces. Tags: amado tandoc, poetry, titans, ust, doctormagnus