Child of God, by Antony and the Johnsons

It was not just another day, it was not just another book & it was not just another song. My own humanity had pained me before. As I read, "...monstrous thinking devices mounted inexplicably on suffering animal bodies. The stare that we meet in all the surviving photographs of Kafka is a stare of pure surprise: surprise, astonishment, alarm. Of all men Kafka is the most insecure in his humanity. This, he seems to say: this is the image of God?" * the voice, that voice pulled me out of my reading.

I know a man who curses his brother
I know a man who lives for no other
Always chasing after money
Thinks a poor man is funny
It's hard, it's hard to believe he's a child of God

"Is it Nina?", I ignorantly wondered. It was not Feeling Good, for certain; nor it was Mississippi Goddam. & yet, that voice—incredibly familiar, pleasantly painful—tore what was left to be torn.

I find it hard, I find it hard, I find it hard
It's hard to believe these are children of God

The frequency of that voice unequivocally dismantling hope to kindle the remaining pieces afterwards. Chords fusing in familiarity; fusing in yearning; fusing the inextricable & eternal conflict among creators & creations.

I find it hard to believe right now
These people call themselves children of God

Tired of my body, tired of my being, I could only surrender; I too find it hard to believe I am a child of god...it is hard to believe we all are.

"Father, why have you forsaken me them us?"

*J.M. Coetzee, from The Lives of Animals

Child of God, by Antony and the Johnsons

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