Help Like Jesus: Part 11

We enjoyed the things about myself that made me human, like my need for going to the restroom. When I went to the restroom, my guides, or whoever they were, talked to me on the toilet. I asked them, “Am I a good wiper?” They told me yes, you are an above average wiper.

We enjoyed things like money, people, and Christ-like behaviors in public, like being funny about weird religious songs. We enjoyed the songs on my iPod, but God did not enjoy my antics with my money. He said, do not spend so much money on energy drinks. We like to make money in the future, so that you can buy more energy drinks on a later date. When I watched television, God told me not to watch the Simpsons, because that show was lame now. Another thing he told me about myself was that I was going to be a famous superstar, like Nicki Minaj. Therefore, I should not watch shows that show Nicki Minaj in a bad light.

Another thing God told me, was watch more South Park. It's a good show for satire. Not that you do not need more funny business in your life, get it, funny, like this joke? We enjoy things like cats, but not on your bed at night. We loved things like pineapple, but hated the idea of buying pineapple, because my mother said it was expensive. So, I had to use my money and buy pineapple at the grocery store. We watched stuff on television that made God angry, because it used his name in vain. Not really, he said he didn't care.

What do I need to do right now? I asked God.

Get some help for your mind problem, God said.

What does that entail? Lobotomy? I asked, not joking at all.

No, you are thinking sick. You need food.

Another thing that happened was, we walked to the grocery store on a regular basis, as I walked, I got high on life. High, high, high on life! That should be a song. Anyway, we were talking about Adam, the guy from high school. He loved to laugh, so hard, he died inside when he felt the end of his life was coming shortly from the Robitussin. No, not time to buy Robitussin, Rachel, geez, too much cough syrup on the brain. What we meant was, he has a problem with his arrogance.

When I walked to the grocery story, I laughed very hard in the aisles over his joke. Pick a number from one to one, then add twenty-two, that's the number of chromosomes that make up me and you! I laughed, so hard, my head almost exploded. I laughed, and laughed, and laughed. I laughed, imagining what the joke really meant. It was about math. He was good at math, I was good at math. What it meant was, these are people with such little understanding of math, they pick a random number, only giving you one option, and then add it to a random number, and you get the answer! This is how math works, bitch! I imagined common core, and that useless, senseless drivel that does make sense, but in a really roundabout way. I laughed, and laughed, and laughed, and thought of that dude Adam.

I bought coconut water, bananas, and pineapple. I ate pineapple at home, drank coconut water at the store, and bananaed up my life a little later. When we were done at the store, we walked to the Quickee mart to get some booze. I drank up, one drink, that waltzed on home. When I got home, my parents believed I had not been gone at all! Wow! They do not notice my antics! I told God, I wanted to understand myself in a new light. I was always alone, always unhappy, and always mad at my parents. He told me, don't worry, Sugar Bee, we will not let them take over your life for long. You are going to be a famous beautiful lover of life, and you will never part from the ideas of the bible. So go, be fruitful, multiply, and go! Time for a walk! Go without your headphones, for your iPhone is still charging!

But God! I don't want to go without my headphones! That would be horrendously horrible!

Just go, you will enjoy it.

Will it be sick, twisted pleasure like enlightenment?

What I meant was, I was in pain. Not pain, exactly... more like, discomfort. Something was happening to me. I was not happy, I wasn't completely unhappy either, but I wasn't happy at all. I felt funny in the mind, weird, weird, weird, it was spiritual growth. I was going through a spiritual growth spurt. When I went on a walk, I listened to the Kesha song. We are who we are. It was a wonderful song, and I was so addicted to that song, I had it stuck in my head day in and day out. But one thing about the Kesha song was, it was a dumbfuck song. But, it was supposed to be a dumbfuck song. It was making fun of dumbfuck girls. And I liked that.

When will I get to make waves in the community? I asked God.

Soon, but not too soon, he replied.

Will I die of heart failure and they will have to rescucitate me, but I will come back as a brain dead vegetable?

No, you are thinking sick again, God replied.

I liked the idea of living without my body, because my body was in agony. It hurt to breathe. Not really, but I was in a certain type of pain that was odd and strange. I enjoyed the idea of love with Adam, not Chance, but it hurt to bleed love for him because he didn't bleed love for me. I wanted to believe I was going somewhere great, but all I did was drink alcohol, and pretend I was myself in a beautiful, lovely way. I enjoyed the ideas of my dad, when he told me I was going to be a famous workaholic, but I didn't believe I was going to do that. I believed I was going to be a famous public figure, and make bank. But, that's not what it was about. It was about my name in lights.

We love you, Rachel, don't go to school again. We don't want you back in the classrooms, it warps your energy.

I said, no, I am going back to school so I can learn more about the world! I want to go back to school.

They said, read books on your own. Do not learn with the rest of those nitwits, we want you here with us, reading with us, living with us, breathing without the eye of the public servant staring you straight in the face.

I walked to the store, and listened to the Kesha song. That song had become the background of my life, for this period now. I walked, and they told me, laugh for yourself for once. I wondered, what does that mean?

Whenever you laugh, you laugh for other people. You imagine someone there with you, laughing.

I don't think I can do that.

But you do it! You have done it more times than we can count.

When?

Think back... Remember, the “mind of God?”

I remembered sitting in my bedroom last spring, laughing over how Jesus was supposedly so good, yet he doesn't go to hell, he wouldn't go to hell, he would refuse, yet, so many people do go to hell.

There you go! You were laughing for yourself then. Don't use that one, though. There is one joke that you laughed at, that is funny, however, no one would find it funny except you. The one about your sister saying, “Rachel, you're not acting like Jesus...” And you saying, “Excuse me, I have a personal relationship with Jesus, Jesus wouldn't act like that!” People wouldn't think that was funny because they would understand why she would say that. However, that is funny.

I thought about this joke, thought real hard, and tried to laugh. I laughed. Not very hard, a little.

A little bit later, I thought about it again, and laughed really, really hard. When I laughed, it was more natural, more relaxed, more evil sounding. It was an evil laugh.

See, that's what evil laughs are. It is the way someone laughs when they are laughing alone, for themselves, without sharing the joke with others.

We went to the store, and God told me, drink cough syrup again. I told him, is it really a good idea? He said, yes, you are going through inner turmoil because of the lack of Adderall, this will calm your mind, and in turn, calm your body.

I bought cough syrup, and drank when I got home. Later, my sister came over for dinner. I was high out of my mind. She looked at me, and said, “We love your ideas on facebook, really, not really, sort of.”

I said, “I understand the need for speed, but really, belief in the almighty takes more than two times the courage to believe, but less than half what it takes to believe in the power of myself.”

“We know you are having a rough time, Rachel,” my mother said with concern. “If you want us to take out the trash tonight, it's okay.”

“I think I understand the need to believe in myself, but really, I really want to know what happens when you understand to belief in power of worthiness of fruit. Worthiness of fruit means eating less fruit, more rind. And I don't understand why you would need to eat less fruit and more rind, but I understand that some people believe the rind gives you super powers.”

My dad said, “Belief in the worthiness of fruit means eating less watermelon, more orange.”

I said, “I believe in less ideas of warmth associated with fruit consumption, eating pickles makes sense to homeless drunkards, but sometimes I feel it necessary to believe in something of a higher power.”

My dad said, “When two people eat the same fruit, does that make them, friends with bananas?”

I said, “If one person eats less fruit than the other, do they understand why they do it, or do they pretend it was okay?”

My dad said, “We need less fruit consumption, more water consumption, less money spending, more money earning, in the world, don't you think?”

I said, “What is that word you say? I understand nothing of this money you tell me I have been earning.”

Then, we cleared the table, as dinner was done.

My parents left, talked amongst themselves. As the night progressed, I became more and more high on the syrup. When my parents saw me, talking to myself openly, acting funny, something odd happened. They smiled at me. Over and over and over again.

I was walking around, in an adventure land. I kept talking to myself about what I thought was going to happen, where I was going to end up, and how many ideas of mine would make the papers. I was happy in a psychadelic crazy way. It was very intense, doing both drugs at the same time, cough syrup and enlightenment. Very, very intense.

“What do your ideas mean, person of intelligent design? Were you excited by the idea of friendship with myself? Or were you more interested in executing commands with Satan?”

“When did the mana get here? Did you not interest him in your leggings? He loved the leggings, Satan. He is instead interested in making time for your ideas about fruit.”

I was talking to these people, high out of my mind, in my mind. There was a spirit pretending to be Satan talking to me. All conversations were pure gibberish. He was telling me I was not going to make it out of this rathole, I would die a lonely girl, and friends with helpers would abandon the crucifix and give into eternal torment willingly, for the shear pleasure of it. Another thing he was telling me was that I would never love anyone as fruitful as myself, but I would love a girl instead. Not homosexual, mean in the bedroom, cruel at the workplace, and easy on the eyes.

I walked around the house, gathering garbage, and talking to Satan. He told me I was in love with him, in secret, I just pretended to enjoy things of a friendly nature with bad children like Santa Claus did. I thought I loved Brandon, but instead, I killed him in a past life, and he was mad as hell because of it. I was in love with a girl and she would never know who I was because we existed in separate dimensions, simultaneously, and she loved herself more than she could ever love me. We loved each other, Satan and I, but instead we pretended to enjoy things of a friendly nature with wild woolly mammoths and things of a furry nature. Instead of pretending to love things of a furry nature, we should drink ice cream, eat fried rice, and belch loud enough for the entire universe to utter, “What a note.”

“What is this idea you planted in my mind? Hell? I thought I liked your beliefs about this world, but I didn't know you enjoyed things of love with Chance.”

“We love you, Rachel, but we don't like your ideas about love. Eat paint, drink ice cream, Rooammm, roammm, roooammm. I want you to roam around the country and believe highly in the power of the holy spirit, bringing peace to all the lands, and believing highly in the power of reincarnation.”

As it was wearing off, I was unloading the dishwasher. I got an idea in my mind. One thing guys didn't understand about sex. Less is more. Too much stimulation was annoying. I thought this was a good idea. I went over and told my mom. She smiled at me. She got it.

Chapter

When I awoke the next morning, I was still recovering from the cough syrup. I got up, dressed, and ate turkey and bananas for breakfast, like they told me to.

When are you going to get even with your parents? God asked.

Not now, never, I answered.

You need to stop thinking sick, Rachel. You think sick. You will get even with your parents sooner or later.

I will if an opportunity arises.

Well, you are in for a treat.

I kept wondering, kept thinking. I am the second coming of Christ. For some reason, it always came back to that. When will I be known to the public? What will happen? Will I be horribly maimed and disfigured?

I have an idea of friendship for you, my love. But it will require some body modification.

Oh God. What now? What kind of body modification? Burn victim? Paraplegic?

You are way off. You are thinking sick, my dear.

Boob job?

No, but it is plastic surgery.

Eye reconstructive surgery?

Close!

Ears pierced?

Bingo!

What does it mean to look pretty? Do I have to get plastic surgery too? Do I need a boob job? Liposuction? Butt implants?

You don't need any of that stuff, they will like you if you just lost a bit of weight, God replied.

But I can't lose weight ever again, I'm not on Adderall.

You can if you want to, heathen, God replied.

I wondered about why I thought about certain people all the time.

Rachel, I have something to tell you. The people you think about, day in and day out, the people who reoccur to you in your mind over and over again, those are the good people in the world. The only good people. These are the only people who are going to go to heaven.

What? But I don't know that many people!

Lifetime after lifetime, we have whittled it down to just these people. Like Alicia, for whatever reason thoughts of her keep popping into your head. That's because you know she is a great girl. That other guy, Trevor, the guy who removed you as a friend last year... You think about him from time to time. You liked him, as a friend. He removed you. He showed his true colors then. He was someone who was on the fence. When he removed you, he made the decision not to join us in heaven.

Really? He is going to hell?

Yes. Don't worry about it, it is fair. He was better than most, but still, not that great. You don't want him to muddy up heaven.

I don't think that's fair!

Don't worry about it! He's bad! Another hellbound soul. Stephanie. She is a bitch, we hate her. We hate her ideas of womanhood. She pretends to be hot stuff, but she is ugly. That's a woman who doesn't know her place. She goes to hell for not understanding that she is ugly and should cower down and show restraint when talking about her own greatness.

I imagined this world of heaven and hell. Maybe, one day, we would all be sitting here.... And I would do something miraculous... and then, poof! We are suddenly in heaven, and the entire world has disappeared. With the same enthusiasm as a beach ball being pushed through a small opening, the entire world would disappear and I would be in heaven. Everyone would be in awe of everything I had gone through, in general, in my lifetime... But they wouldn't understand, and I wouldn't want them to understand, I was in an altered state, and it wasn't as weird to me as it would have been to them in a normal state... In heaven, we have our duties. Every once in awhile, on the first of every month, all the people who are in heaven go down to hell, and make fun of the people in hell, in a very childish, mean, slightly immature fashion... Rubbing dirt in their faces and the like, making fun of them for not being in heaven. They would cry and beg for mercy, but we would tell them, you should have been good, bad guy, you should have been good...

This idea of hell I was thinking of, it wasn't the normal idea of hell, the hyperbolic, every horrible emotion at once hell. It was a different hell concept. The glistening intestines hell. It consisted of the sick feeling you got from looking at something putrid, like glistening intestines, only magnified, and horrific it was.

I woke up the next morning, got up, drank orange juice, and worked out at the gym with my mom. I got ready for a surprise later that night. I was going to do something fun. I made use of my time at the gym, doing bicep curls, and walked on the treadmill... When we got home, I was in a daze. This was the last time I would be a real person. I was going to become a star.

I went to the store for a caffeinated beverage, and while there, drank an alcoholic beverage. I walked home, danced, listened to the Kesha song. Suddenly, something horrible happened. When I listened to the Kesha song, I started imagining inbred people dancing to the lyrics, with horrific faces and contorted bodies. God told me, don't listen to the Kesha song anymore, ever again. This song will warp the enlightenment process. If you ever hear this song again, your personality will be permanently warped to be ditzy. I will choose a different song for you.