It’s not easy being a Nephilim; you’ve got no place to rest your oversized head, being dammed in heaven and earth and all. I guess I could go to Hell; great company, but lousy climate…at least I hear they’ve got a great band.
Ah me…I didn’t ask to be born, ‘ya know! Mother was ravished by a fallen angel, one of about 200 good ole boys who split away from Number One in the long ago, and made whoopie with the daughters of men, much to His everlasting consternation. Must have partied hearty, though, ’cause yours truly and a bunch of other blokes resulted. Trouble is, being part demonic and part human gives you major identification problems, to say nothing of the “fitting in” thing…and I’ve got no bloody therapist!
Ever try buying clothes off the rack when you’re over nine feet tall?! – – No, I suppose you haven’t. When all of your threads are custom-make, you’re talking some serious bucks, too. I was a natural as a basketball player or football quarterback, but found that I could only do that so long before the overly-curious caused me to move on. Being a freak necessitates a nomadic life style, and it feels like it takes all of the moving I can do just to stay in one place.
Whack jobs pursue me, too. The religious ones want to execute me on the spot and call me an abomination; what do ‘ya think that does to my self-concept?! Then there are those who think that aliens were my father…if one was, I wish he’d beam me up! The Almighty got so perturbed with the existence of the Nephilim that some say that’s why he wiped out most of us together with men in Noah’s flood (Russell Crowe made a fine Noah, didn’t he?). Anyways, fallen angels again hit on mortal women after the flood, and so here I am. — As Rodney King said, “can’t we all just get along?” At least the Almighty said he’d never again destroy the world by flood.
He never said, though, that he’d never use earthquakes, and we seem to be having a lot of those lately… it makes me start to wonder. With my luck, I’ll probably be in California when it slides off the Pacific coast. I didn’t ask to be born; if I had, the answer probably would have been “no.”- – Why do I suffer so at the hands of the Deity, and those who call themselves normal?- – Is it normal to hate? Just who is the real monster here? Some of us seem born to suffering, as the sparks fly upward…*sigh.*