MANY YEARS FROM NOW

 i.

You do not know it but many years from now, you would be a different person. You would no longer plead for the heavens to forgive the evil thoughts that lounge in the corners of your mind. You would no longer give your lips a little slap everytime you said anything that sounded like blasphemy.

ii.
Many years from now, you would no longer own a conscience or apologise to anything or anyone. You would own a little desk beside the window of your room that oversees the heart of the city. You would pile many books on that desk and smoke even more cigars and you would write and write and write.

iii.
You would write about everything that happens on the streets in front of you and the things that happen in your mind. You would have lost the "good girl" conditioning that ails you and you would no longer hide behind the veil of innocence. You will bare your soul and pour it out as words with as much fiery honesty as your body can conjure.
You would write what you really thought about the world and people and life. You would write about how you think life is pointless and about how much you hate that religion sums up our entire existence as a struggle to spend eternity in some fancy place when really, you think anyone can find heaven in another person; all the peace and beauty. You would write about women's bodies and how exquisite you think they are and how you wish lingerie were regular clothes. You would write about men's bodies too, but not as much.

iv
On the 12th of July, 2002, at an interview for a radio station after winning your 6th literary award, you would be asked if you believed in the existence of any supreme being and you would say yes. You would talk at length about how the god you believed in was a black woman with a bossom filled with kinky hair and lips thicker than your thighs. You would smirk at the discomfort of the interviewer and wonder what discormforted her more; the things you said or the puffs of cigarette smoke you kept blowing in her direction.
At the end of the interview, you would take your last drag of cigarette and use the charred end to draw a heart on the "no smoking allowed" poster on your way out.

v.
It is on that day you will die, but before you close your eyes forever, you would call your daughter, the one whose father you do not know and tell her that you didn't want any preacher to talk about heaven or hell at your funeral because you fancy none of those places. You would make her swear to you that the preacher officiating your funeral would preach about anything else.
Your daughter would laugh. You will hear her fear in her laugh. She would have never told you but you will know that she loves you and the thought of your demise saddened her, but you will not care. You will never love her back. She was a mistake. A mistake that became the only family willing to associate with you.

vi.
Before it is 11:45pm when you will die, you would sit at your desk naked wearing heavy makeup and when you looked in the mirror to check your eyeliner, you would find her; the girl that you are right now and you will cry.
She will be crying too but you will not comfort her. You will comfort yourself instead, crossing your arms across your stomach to hold the sides of your waist. You would raise the mirror you saw her in and kiss it passionately until it cracks under your lips. The jagged edges of the crack will cut your tongue in many places but you will not care. You would remember the girl you are now, the one that loves people and believes in God and prays the rosary twice daily and fears hell and reveres heaven and cry harder.

vii.
At 11:40pm, you would be sprawled on the floor with an empty syringe in your palm. You will hear her tiptoe into the room from the broken mirror you threw to the corner. She will stand in front of you but you will not see her. You will only know she is there because she will smell of the incense your father burnt in the living room when you were younger.
You will ask her to come closer but she would refuse and prefer to stand a good distance away from you. So just before you die, you will scream for her to hear you, "You do not know it, but many years from now you will be a different person."


Author's note: I feel terrible about the way this character's life had to go(these things write themselves, lol).
I wish she didn't think of heaven as a place filled with easily replaceable beauty and peace(I meaaaannn, I'm sure that it would be a lot more than that, plus the presence of God that will fill everywhere! Ordinary worship during fellowship with other believers here on earth lasaaan, sooo orgasmic¿<is there a more appropriate word for this?hehe>), I wish she didn't have to go like that. I've said too much. Ciao!