It is said that a man without tattoos or scars is invisible to the gods. To which gods, I have no idea. A woman however is never invisible neither to gods nor men. I ve been called a whoremonger, deceiver, player, sugarcoating bastard, liar, devil, monster. Once or twice in my face, and perhaps a hundred times more behind it. All the filth that men can spill. That s why I don t have many men as friends. All because of my strange religion.
In my short years I have found that a woman is the only god worth praying to. Praying as an act of admiration, of reverence, not one of begging. The difference is essential. I found that is infinitely better to adore a woman that it is to do so with a car, a phone, or a sports team. You can adore art, for what it wakes in you, but it will rarely provide an enduring fascination.
So I worshipped. I sacrificed. I bent but I was never broken. I changed the godess when I longer received her favor like any sane man should do with his. My loyalty though episodic, was strongly stubborn. Sometiems I made mistakes and I suffered to consequences.
My religion is mad, but in its daunting chaos it is the most sincere of all. I worship with complete abandonment. Her smiles, her tears, her screams, her flushing red face. Her violent outbursts and cat like affection. All are the fruit of my prayers. And these in themselves are the reward of my religion. Imediate and incomparably beautiful.
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