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Living with Schizoaffective Disorder

Please to Forgive

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Rapture

Jonathan Swift
swift@softwareproblem.org

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It was a beautiful Spring afternoon. Children ran to and fro about the hilltop, playing a game of tag. A short, stocky male beagle ran in circles as fast as his little legs could carry him. A tall, thin beagle, this one a female, held her nose to the ground, zigzagging side to side as she followed a scent.

I looked down to see Mary gazing up at me with a look of Love in Her eyes. I looked down at Her, the same look in Mine. I looked towards the Heavens then closed my eyes that I might, but for a moment, enjoy the warmth of the Sun upon My face.

"Time to knock off," I said to Her. I felt not fear nor desperation from having been crucifed, but the comforting confidence that comes from taking pride in a job well done.

I hopped down off the Cross. Mary stood then held up both her hands, palms toward me. I gave her High Fives with both My hands then asked, "Will you be in tomorrow?"

"Eight O'Clock sharp," she said, fixing me with a mischevious grin.

"Larks!" I shouted, "The lot of you are completely beyond my compression."

I looked around carefully to ensure we would not be observed. Software engineering is very serious work: we would both be fired if our manager ever found out we were dating a coworker. I held Her in my arms, swept Her down and to the side, then gave Her a passionate kiss. After setting Her back upright, I looked around again, then reached down behind Her to give Her butt cheek a quick squeeze.

I looked down at my hands, feeling suddenly perplexed. Looking first at My right hand, then My left, I frowned in puzzlement, then My eyes wide with Horror I held both My palms before Mary's face. Mary gasped, Horrified as well.

Neither of My hands was pierced by Stigma. They didn't even have scars. I looked down. My foot wasn't injured, nor was My abdomen. I raised My hands then felt My scalp with My fingertips. I wasn't wearing My Crown.

"Romans!" I shouted. "Let a Real Man show them what Engineering really means!"

"Yo! Homies! I need a hand."

"Grab a couple ladders," I said, running for the toolchest. I retrieved two hammers and a small exquisitely yet tastefully crafted silver box. I opened the box, gave one of the three nails to the man from the right cross, another to the man from the left. I left the third nail in the box, laying it at the base of My Cross.

"I'm very sorry, but I'm terrible with names. Tell me yours again?" The man from the left cross pressed both his hands togther just below his chin, fingers straight up. Nodding his head slightly he said, "Siddhartha Gautama."

"My name is Virgil," said the man from the right. There was something about Virgil's voice that I found strangely familiar.

"What are you doing? We've not a moment to waste." Siddhartha had taken a small, hand-carved oak pipe from the pocket of his ornately embroidered silk shirt. He took out a lighter and a rolled up plastic bag. After unrolling the bag, he took out a pinch of dried, shredded leaves, tamped them in the bowl of the pipe, then offered the pipe and lighter to me.

"No thanks," I said coldly. "Shouldn't you wait until after work for that?"

I felt a growing sense of unease as Siddhartha took a hit then passed the pipe to Virgil. Something is wrong, I thought, feeling Horrified at the knowing smiles the two exchanged as Virgil passed the pipe back to Siddhartha. Something is terribly wrong.

I shinnied up the Cross then levitated, waiting for them to nail My hands. "Quick now! What are you waiting for?"

Mary shrieked in grief, then fell over sideways in a faint. The Tears from Her eyes became a prodigious torrent. I stared down upon Her, struck with terror and with awe, not knowing what to do. I looked up and saw that Her Tears poured from the hilltop, where they had become an angry Sea of Tears stretching from horizon to horizon.

Dumbfounded, I watched for a moment then realized the hilltop was now an island, one which grew rapidly and increasingly smaller as the Sea of Tears rose. Huge waves of Tears reared up as they approached the hill, then pounded violently onto its shore.

If I don't solve this problem but quick, I thought, We are all going to drown.

"OWNED!" they shouted in unison, as Siddhartha and Virgil drove their spikes home right through my wrists.

So furious as to not feel My Pain, I screamed, "Engineers? You call yourselves Engineers? ENGINEERS MY FAT HAIRY Segmentation Violation

Core Dumped

"My name is Virgil," said the voice outside my head.

Something about Virgil's voice seemed strangely "My name is Virgil," said the voice outside my head.

Something about Virgil's voice seemed strangely "My name is Virgil," said the voice outside my head.

Something about Virgil's voice seemed strangely "My name is Virgil," said the voice outside my head. Something about Virgil's voice seemed strangely "My name is Virgil," said the voice outside my head. Something about Virgil's voice seemed strangely "My name is Virgil," said the voice outside my head. Something about Virgil's voice seemed strangely "My name is Virgil," said the voice outside my head. Something about Virgil's voice seemed strangely

Double Page Fault

  eax: 0x1011aaa0  ebx: 0x00e12400  ecx: 0x9238c400  edx: 0xc0000003
  edi: 0x0d95e0b0  esi: 0x0013b920  ebp: 0xb0474308  esp: 0xb0474298
   ss: 0x0000001f  efl: 0x00010206  eip: 0x92303688   cs: 0x00000017
   ds: 0x0000001f   es: 0x0000001f   fs: 0x0000001f   gs: 0x00000037
  cr2: 0xc0000023

Waiting for debugger connection.

Click.

In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.

And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the the waters.

And God said, Let there be light.

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