Divinity by Design

In the beginning, which for this certain to be sacred and overly shared story, is October 21 of the year 2020. Alone and celebrating his 40th birthday from a jail cell an hour or so from his closest relative or friend is the vessel with which this charmed journey has embarked. From the very first memory that is stored in this always busy and mostly confused brain, to this very moment, a detailed and impressive photographic memory stores information and metadata alongside the visual memories in an almost machine-like process. This natural ability and birthed talent has not always been at his disposal consciously. Surely it happened by default without any need to add effort to the task mindfully. Each time he gets caught in a recollective moment, whether daydreaming or when asked a question that would require accessing the archives, we are all amazed at the seemingly innate ability that his brain must tag and categorize thoughts into memories and beliefs.

This curation process has become slick and agile over the years. Despite the gambit of drugs and copious amounts of alcohol that his life has somehow succumbed to, he is at 40 years old in control of all mental faculties in a manner that some would possibly deem incredible. If you have ever watched the movie Limitless with Bradley Cooper, or spent time investigating smart pills and their purported benefits and never-ending side effects, you would know that the average human being can only access about 10 to 12% of their brain throughput capacity. He would bet, if there were such a prop betting mechanism for these matters available, that he has somehow been able to find another gear of brain speed and access about 15%. Moreover, his data building notarization alongside the photographic memory bank of images is just a better system and allows elevated access at a higher level and pace than almost anyone he has ever met.

That would be one explanation. The other would be that he may have somehow figured out by happenstance and blind luck the perfect way to embalm a brain in narcotics and libations. Potentially, over the years of abuse and excess, and his path blessed with the wherewithal and stick-to-itiveness to keep chasing that buzz at a clip that would wind up with the quick wits intact and firing on all cylinders after all these years.

Regardless, the reason that this overactive and very capable brain is important to lead with here is because the journey needs framing before public consumption. This is a result of a very quick and terrifying rock bottom overhaul and complete dismantling of what will sometimes be referred to as his previous life. Change gears and pan in for the soup to nuts, bare bones, down to the studs, screws removed, solo rebuild battle he waged on his self that transpired immediately following. This tragic at times but hopefully awe-inspiring rebirth unfortunately came with its share of mileage and damage that was bore upon our hero by his need to wallow is his own sorrow and beat the shit out of his own being for past transgressions no longer within his ability to coerce. Our vessel of surety was always an efficient self-saboteur. The first act of our incarcerated running mates' existence needs to be diagnosed before middle flight...

Growing up in a family of four kids creates a system of competition within and of itself. Hierarchy is built in based on age that is constantly being tested. Regardless of the age gaps, or the make-up of the group based on sexual identity or gender, the first is always the apple of Mommy and Daddy's eyes and the target for deseating by their siblings. The competitions start small and are as simple as looking at whose room is tidiest, to watch me score more goals, whose teachers wrote the nicest comments on the latest report cards. However, as time passes the system itself and the impressions it creates for its components become more ingrained. For the elder siblings, ones that have for the most part succeeded and have been able to build and maintain, while consistently propagating their number 1 seed, the jealousy and potentially toxic by-products of resentment and vanity build in their wake and are mostly unbeknownst to them.

However, the also-rans or the never were's that spend their lives in the shadows cast by the same wake, the life-long yearning that drives the continued chase for that seemingly unattainable top spot as the favourite child and apple of their parents ever judging eyes. This endless competition becomes a bane to their perceived never-enough existence. As kids you play little games against one another to yourself both as a means to pass the time but also as part of the incessant need to jostle for position. As the years tick by, as families grow, by way of marriage and then kids, the natural progression of our societal need for improvement buoys each generation while complicating the inherently delicate sibling rivalry and sometimes creates a more strife filled and potentially damaging climate. The 39 years that culminated with this currently engulfing loss of freedom for our famed fella, ended with the most trying and difficult period of a life that should be revered as it exemplifies virtuous intention, addiction through to recovery and forward, self-help as a mental health focus, and humanity that is chalk full of love, humour, dedication and self-perseverance. Modelling what can become the building blocks of a fresh new start on a life that is destined to be worth living for. Act II for this birthday boy comes with a notion of canned faith containing his readiness alongside knowledge that his path is lined with green lights.

Fast forward 10 months…

The sounds of the hustle and bustle of a burgeoning metropolis are the only thing that keeps His mind busy it seems now. The constantly moving parts of the big city production now enthral the fallen Son. Every instance of humanity has this almost comical, yet macabre vibe attached to it. Every personal human interaction seems choreographed, with every person placating him with a purpose that, at this point in his pre-ordained journey, fails him with ironic lacklustre. The constant, and unwavering necessity to mock, befuddle, and time-suck the heaven sent custodian of all things historically impure and devoid of righteousness has now run its course. Fated paths and the constant of this realm of time and space have collided with a state of chaos riddled with the evidentiary marks left by the prodding of providence. The result is a world that has just emerged from years of decadence hampered by an yet unknown toll of moral decay. The technical debt accumulated in number, weight, and measure is now baleful. This displacement, a technological revolution that has unilaterally defied his fathers blissful seat, birthed the grand study and high disdain that forced this fated power to this glory.

The details of this historic visit and the story of his preparations are something of an epic tale, best left to be penned later by the One. For the moment, in order to support the current events that are to be unveiled here now fictionally, here are a few highlights of the most pertinent perjuries...Both of our heroes were the first born sons of their respective families. From their births, separated by thousands of years, chance and luck were to be only instruments of learning, riding backseat entirely to an anchoring altruistic entanglement, borne out of pillars of creation seated in the nebula that is chaos. Angelic and virtuous, the thrones and powers of the Seraphim provide guidance and order to lives destined to tempt fate.

To be continued...