Confusion, and panic.
Today at church, we took Communion. (We are Protestant, and I am told that in Protestant churches, it is called "The Lord's Supper", but I prefer the term "Communion". It is the same thing, just a different term, as far as I am aware.)
At any rate, we had always taken Communion with virtually no problem. At times we felt the beginnings of a flashback coming upon us, but a prayer and solid grounding usually kept us well.
Today none of that worked.
The Host was out, as she usually is for church...we listen, but she is out.
That is just how it is. Then the bread was ingested...no problems. Once the juice came, however...it is a very deep grape juice, instead of the wine. The Host was positive it was really blood. We had been forced to ingest blood, once upon a time, in rituals similar but drenched in perversion to confuse...and we understand it is not how our church would do things. As she began to panic, I took control and inspected the juice. It was indeed very dark, a very deep color. Thick. I did not want to tip back the thimble-full we had and drink it entirely without testing it. I knew if it were really blood...well, there would have been intense issues to deal with.
The thoughts in my mind as I slowly dipped a finger in the liquid to test it: numerous, and most were too inappropriate to retell here.
I was expecting it to be warm, like blood. I was almost positive it would be, you see. What I loathe to admit is that even though we were forced to ingest blood during certain rituals in times past, we grew to enjoy its flavor. We have often thought that mentally, we learned to like the taste of blood merely so we could endure drinking it better. It was known what would occur if one gagged up or spit out the blood from the chalice...something one dares not contemplate.
I digress...
What I had difficulty in admitting earlier was that in some small way, I had hoped it was blood. It nauseates me and warms me at the same instant.
I am positive that makes me a hideous person.
At any rate, we had always taken Communion with virtually no problem. At times we felt the beginnings of a flashback coming upon us, but a prayer and solid grounding usually kept us well.
Today none of that worked.
The Host was out, as she usually is for church...we listen, but she is out.
That is just how it is. Then the bread was ingested...no problems. Once the juice came, however...it is a very deep grape juice, instead of the wine. The Host was positive it was really blood. We had been forced to ingest blood, once upon a time, in rituals similar but drenched in perversion to confuse...and we understand it is not how our church would do things. As she began to panic, I took control and inspected the juice. It was indeed very dark, a very deep color. Thick. I did not want to tip back the thimble-full we had and drink it entirely without testing it. I knew if it were really blood...well, there would have been intense issues to deal with.
The thoughts in my mind as I slowly dipped a finger in the liquid to test it: numerous, and most were too inappropriate to retell here.
I was expecting it to be warm, like blood. I was almost positive it would be, you see. What I loathe to admit is that even though we were forced to ingest blood during certain rituals in times past, we grew to enjoy its flavor. We have often thought that mentally, we learned to like the taste of blood merely so we could endure drinking it better. It was known what would occur if one gagged up or spit out the blood from the chalice...something one dares not contemplate.
I digress...
What I had difficulty in admitting earlier was that in some small way, I had hoped it was blood. It nauseates me and warms me at the same instant.
I am positive that makes me a hideous person.
posted by Logan Nambiet at
2:59 PM
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