I was at a crowded bar/restaurant one night. All I could recall from it were the thick blacks and the deep reds. If I could describe it more accurately, it was like a small little corner of hell where its residents momentarily took refuge from their eternal suffering. Even Satan understood that weekends were necessary for keeping up morale for both his minions who administered the torture and the agonized denizens who needed a respite from their torment. Hell’s powers, principalities, thrones and dominions had no hierarchical significance here. From Paimon, to Lilith, to your common demon, all mingled and fraternized with each other. Maybe it was Hell, or maybe it was your common earthly night hub, who knows. Who cares.

I was in a secluded corner of the bar, just drinking and retreating into my own mind as I usually do when I go to bars. I rarely go to them to meet other people but instead to more readily access my subconscious through intoxication, and the ambiance and white noise of a bar are a pleasant change of scenery from the domestic isolation of home at midnight. The music, the people, and the chattering were just a blur, just background noise and faceless figures. But through the corner of my eye, I saw someone approach me. I didn’t acknowledge their presence by not looking their way, and I just kept looking straight ahead, staring at nothing.

The figure sat by my side, and he introduced himself as an ex-Catholic priest. He looked fairly young to be an ex-priest, I thought. He was young, with thick curly brown hair, and he had a kind, but cute face. As for what happened next, it was all a blur. As far as I can remember, we talked about God, debated the cosmological arguments about his existence, and contemplated our place in the universe, all of which I wouldn’t be able to recount right now. But what I can remember was the increasing tension between us. It was so thickly palpable that even the embers of Hell couldn’t suffocate me with their fumes. He suddenly but gently laid his hand on my cheek and guided my face into a kiss which turned into a passionate embrace. Even in that dank place, with that kiss, all I could experience was the universe and “God.” God became personalized, visceral, and in the flesh. What occurred was boundlessness between God and us. No. It was a consuming of God and his universe, and in committing this act, we became the hypostasis of that reality thereby becoming gods ourselves. It was the creation of a reality that should have been, At least for that moment. Maybe we were in Hell, and we were playing out our delusions of grandeur and power through our lust just to be punished for it once the delusion was over.