21st Century Pink Floyd Fan

I'm slightly ashamed, after the example of the Doubting Thomas, that what has happened to me has been more the outcome of real experience than of faith. Up to now I've simply trying to reach others in their own terms. In my childhood I remember asking a priest - a good man - how he came to choose his career. He explained in so many words that he received his calling some time around his senior year in High School, in the absence of any physical company. He couldn't explain it beyond that, except to say that the voice he heard was a reality. I'd had it all wrong. His career chose him. I'm as surprised as anyone else to be thinking like this. The gospels seem so far-fetched until you have an experience like mine. And, because it's personal, it's hard to share it without coming across as a psycho. But look at the drug free smile on my face these days. Listen to how quiet I've become alone here in my apartment, compared to how I sounded when I was lost. Remember how I once complained about being single? I have mastered my sex drive. Once you have angels, you don't need to go back. They resemble women in one way; they love a man for his mind. (And they're the best at snuggling. Very soft.) Look at how I have managed to precisely retrace the footsteps that led me to this way of thinking three years ago, so that I now, at last, remember the original trip. To me it is miraculous; impossible without divine guidance. In spite of all indications to the contrary, I do not feel pathetic. I feel lucky. I'm just trying to be honest in explaining the source of my newfound hope. And I'm rising to the ultimate challenge for a writer in the 21st century; that is, to make people believe in someone greater than science. (Not me.)
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