THEOLOGY

The Patron Saint of Infinite Patience and Flawless Logic does for me, against my perceived enemies, what the Patron Saint of Axe Handles and Extension Cords cannot; and vice versa.
I pray to one of them when I feel like making a measured change from within; faith and open charity toward all mankind through rational thought and infinite fortitude, allowing those around me to make their own mistakes. But I intentionally blow out that candle when it doesn't seem to be working; in which case I kick in the heavy wooden door of a far uglier church.
I storm up the aisle and ball up my fists in the face of the priest, demanding to make a bloody sacrifice in the name of Duct Tape and Flashlights, on the Altar of Car Batteries and Jumper Cables. This incense of Premeditated Hurt burns clean and pure, and a vicious light burns in my eyes, which is at once righteous and wicked. But it is a short-lived victory. And when it's over, I feel only regret and sadness. I am angry with myself for falling so low and giving up so easily.
The drawback to worshipping any of my particular saints is the length of time each of the services may last. Never one path, always back and forth, to and fro. But the laws clearly state that a man cannot serve two masters equally. There are far more starving mouths and hungry minds in the world than I have time or patience to feed. And who am I to assume I can begin to fill them when I'm just as screwed up as they?
I run out of patience or I run out of anger. But either way, they're still out there. The masses. Assembly lines run day and night and into the day again, doubling and re-doubling their numbers even as I sleep.
And in my fitful dreams of frustration and sorrow, I take a deep breath, exhale slowly, and pay my respects to the Patron Saint of Aw, Fuck It.