Praying for mercy, voices I never thought I would hear whispered words of commotion, sweet words, empty of content, but which at the same time gave me a sense of danger. The stress caused by the tense atmosphere that night made me think about how safe I had been in my own ignorance. The closer I got to deity status, the more it seemed that I was insane. The esoteric thoughts and ascetic ethos only made it even more explicit to me that I had lost myself in my own spirit.

In that terrifying circumstance, realising the presence of an entity still unknown to me, I felt my whole body go light, as if a miserable cold breeze were capable of knocking me to my knees. I don't know if I was afraid of that god who was probing me through the window, or if I was tormented by my inconsequential attitude of provoking him. 

I realised that this being of divine proportions was staring at me when I thought about closing my eyes. The sensation of his gaze was as if someone was trying to pierce my skin with their bare hands. With my eyes closed, I could feel its presence getting stronger and stronger, as if this being was standing in front of me, breathing its sigh of contempt into my face. Dread gripped my body and there was nothing I could do about it. My body didn't respond to my commands, all I did was keep my eyes closed, waiting for this god of mysterious intentions to leave me alone.

The sensation of that being's presence went beyond anxiety. It was as if, at any moment, it could swallow me up and tear me limb from limb. I can't explain why, but it seemed that mercy was not one of the options this god would consider viable as a solution to his problems. 

As a being of power, of maximum resolution of variegated issues, this god tends to behave like a being of sadism. It usually favours the most socially cruel, anthropophagic, morally dirty and humanly perfidious solution to the contradictions imposed on it. As this being stood in front of me, I felt that at any moment something necessarily bad could happen to me. 

But its presence was completely beyond a mere visit with sick intentions. That creature made up of filthy concepts made itself a part of me, as if it were holding out its hand to me, waiting for me to say hello. 

It wasn't customary for this god to be sympathetic to someone, unless that person was disgusting or had a completely denigrated part of themselves. 

I accepted his consideration for me; after all, a part of me is as rotten as any part of any other human being. This god seems to understand that I don't reject this rottenness, I just understand it as one of the necessary paths, a means, an end. The presence of that god, like the presence of many other gods to come, made sense at that moment. He came to me to become part of me, to bless me with his grace.

When consumed by his blessing, I couldn't notice that I had become even more capable of contempt, resentment, lust, etc. Perhaps accepting this piece of divinity made me even more human.