Death is swallowed up in victory

On day number 25 without sex it got to the point where I googled 'involuntary celibacy' to see if I could coin the phrase on this blog. It shook some sense into me when I found out that 'involuntary celibacy' (or incel for short) is of course the name of a misogynistic online subculture responsible for mass shootings and hate crimes. In my defence, even counting the days since my last encounter made me feel uncomfortable.

I guess then that blogging provides me some healthy self-moderation. At worst, this blog will at least document my slow decline into a new identity defined solely on who won't sleep with me. One day I'm googling involuntary celibacy, the next I'll be using the word horny in my opening exchanges with new people, and etching tally marks into the side of my wardrobe for every rejection I receive. At best however, this blog will allow me to identify and overcome the self-pity and self-loathing that seems to be festering in my writing at the moment.

In other involuntary news, I found myself at church for reasons beyond my control this week. There, a middle aged woman neatly arose from her seat, glided out of her bench, and headed towards the front of the church. The congregation said not a word as her polished shoes walked purposely up the aisle. The priest watched her as she bowed towards a supernatural presence. Standing at a microphone, she began to read in a well-spoken voice, that lacked the regional intricacies found in the silent tongues sitting before her.

When this perishable nature has put on imperishability, and when this mortal nature has put on immortality, then the words of scripture will come true: Death is swallowed up in victory. Death, where is your victory? Death, where is your sting? Now the sting of death is sin, and sin gets its power from the Law.

It's fucking surreal that people sitting in silence, listening to someone read these words, is something that happens. I don't find it disturbing or worrying, it's just a weird thing to observe.

My mother has a very strong faith which I did not inherit, despite its prominence in my childhood. I will be devoting a blog post or two towards the impact of religion on my parental relationships. I've had many hours in pews to brainstorm those pieces.