Field of Blood in The Stuff That's Not Interesting But Is The Most Interesting Stuff I'll Write

I came home from work the other night and my parking spot as well as all the guest parking spots were taken up by my little brother’s friends. Honestly, I didn’t even get mad. In the past, every other time this has happened (which is with surprising regularity), I would bang on doors and scream and wake neighbors.

Twice in my life I have interrupted the flow of what I was doing to come and take care of them, and they can’t even make sure I have space when I get home.

“Oh, they’re only in their early 20s…” that’s how old I was when I came back for the first time to take care of them as children. I suppose it’s a little ridiculous to expect the same kind of treatment from others as I give, but it’s also what has made me so suspicious of others.

The other night, my friend Heather said to me, “You know, you could go right now to LA with just the clothes on your back and you’d be fine. You’re the only one out of our whole group who would be fine.” I took that as a big compliment considering the randomness of our group.

I’m writing this at my mother’s house because I got rid of my internet as a way of forcing myself to start actually getting ready to go. Slowly ripping away all of the things that have distracted me from accomplishing anything and doing this a year ago.

People have tried to placate me, “All things happen in their own time…” No, I absolutely do not believe that. Things happen when we make them happen, especially if it’s something that is reliant upon our own momentum to get the ball rolling.

One of my favorite quotes is from Harrison Ford, he was asked if he believes in the Force and he answered, “The Force is in you; force yourself.”

So I guess that’s where I’m at right now, I’m forcing myself.

I’m trying to keep it quiet mainly because of my paranoia about people knowing anything about me, but it’s been difficult only because things spread so fast on social media. I’m already looking forward to being out of this place and away from all off these… well, I don’t know what you would call them, although I have been thinking about Judas for a while.

The idea behind Judas Iscariot is a very interesting one because he is universally reviled by Christians, despite the fact that, logically, Christianity would not exist without Judas. Christianity is dependent upon the Resurrection of Jesus Christ, but had nobody betrayed Jesus, there would have been no Crucifixion and no Resurrection.

The question then becomes, why did Judas betray Jesus? Well, the most common answer, found in three of the Gospels is pretty simple: greed. He sold out Jesus for thirty pieces of silver, and he did this by kissing Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane in front of members of the Sanhedrin, who had no idea which of the men present was actually Jesus. This is where the phrase “Judas kiss” comes from because it is an act of betrayal disguised as an act of love.

One story goes that once Judas discovered exactly what would happen to Jesus, namely crucifixion, he returned the silver to the Sanhedrin to try to free Jesus, but it was too late, so Judas hung himself. What’s interesting is that the Sanhedrin used the silver to buy a plot of land in order to bury nameless strangers in once they had died, and this place became known as the Field of Blood, because it was purchased with the blood money that had cost the world the life of Jesus Christ.

I know what you’re thinking, what does any of this have to do with me and for fuck sake why are you so dramatic?

The reason I think Judas is interesting is because we have all done things out of greed, things that hurt another person and have caused us grief beyond measure. Judas chose to end his life, but what if he hadn’t? What if he spent his remaining days dedicating himself to righting the wrongs that he perpetrated?

I’ve spent so much of the last year angry at everyone for being greedy and not recognizing the hurt and emptiness that I felt, but I can’t control them. I can only control me, and if they’re not going to acknowledge it, then it’s up to me. And it starts with little things.

I parked two streets down and walked home. I never mentioned it to my little brother, I wonder if he even knew that his guests took up my parking and spots belonging to several others. Who cares? Yelling at him isn’t going to do anything. Besides, he probably doesn’t think very highly about me right now because he thinks that I’ve been too obsessed with how empty and angry I am.

It’s a choice.

Had Judas lived, would there be a Field of Blood? Who knows? But after the catastrophic level of death I experienced in 2016, coupled with my grandmother’s death and my own desire to end my own life, I don’t need to spend anymore time in fields of blood.