After having to had rot for my whole life back in that hell-hole I call my hometown, it was nice to finally move out on my own into a new city and start my university studies. Calling my hometown a hell-hole is quite harsh. There’s really nothing wrong with it, but once you’ve spent your whole life in the same city, never traveling much, I bet even paradise would start to seem like hell. I moved into my small flat, registered for the upcoming term, and just waited to finally start a whole new life. But you can never guess what happened on my way home the very first day.
There I was, jollily hopping down the bunny trail back home after the first day at the Dis Academy. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and as I walked past the city cathedral admiring its authoritarian stance and beauty, I felt a kind of euphoria I seldom feel. Well that’s not true, I feel euphoric every Friday after getting piss-drunk. Then it gets depressing again. But two beers later it all comes roaring back again. Still, it was a genuinely perfect day, the kind of day you would expect to see in children’s TV-shows. You know, where the sun always shines, everyone is always happy, and the world is full of vivid colors. I swear the creators of these shows are all hopped up on drugs.
Continuing my journey home (or let’s call it an adventure. It sounds more epic), I came across a bridge. Since this bridge was not guarded by a troll hiding underneath it, I felt safe to cross it. But what waited on the other side was all the more horrific. I spotted with my eyes two figures approaching me, with broad smiles on their faces. I wasn’t sure if they were just as hopped up on drugs as those pesky creators of shows like The Teletubbies, or just hopped up on something else. Turns out they weren’t high because of LSD or PCP, but high on LDS and GOD.
When I first laid my eyes on them, I thought to myself that there are no people dumb enough to walk around in white, fancy shirts and ties, carrying rucksacks on a hot day like that. A small, lonely brain cell of mine actually realized who they were, but I had never seen these people on the streets before, or coming to my door, so I found it a little too typical that once moving to a bigger city I’d have to run into them at the very instance. But nevertheless, there they were, smiling and strutting the streets of this oh so secular city trying to brainwash rational people. Then they saw me, and I should have broken my eye-contact with them, but that felt rude. In the next instance, they marched towards me, with ecstatic eyes. Somehow I felt that this was the point where I would start venturing deeper into the batshit crazy cult of Mormons.