Sacrifice

We sacrifice parts of us every day. The sacrifice is no longer a sacred act, but a sad daily routine, which brings no joy, because we perform it to one another to receive commodities, and not to cherish the Gods. I want to bring back the value of sacrifice given to us by the Gods, to serve and understand them.

Published by Manol Petrov, 11 Jan 2021

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We sacrifice parts of us every day. The sacrifice is no longer a sacred act, but a sad daily routine, which brings no joy, because we perform it to one another to receive commodities, and not to cherish the Gods. I want to bring back the value of sacrifice given to us by the Gods, to serve and understand them.

The best act of sacrifice remains the  immolation of the Son of God in order to save Mankind souls, but this is a topic for which  the Christian clergy has provided so many errands to my colleagues of the new era, so my desire to compete with them has been naturally volatilized.

Through the years somehow I never succeeded in it, with this art spite - to be the best illustrator of Christianity.

 

The memory of my first sacrifice is a bit odd. It's related to my earliest childhood and the story viewed through the prism of time is more comic and it doesn't look quite like sacrificing something to please the Gods, but more likely to protect the humankind from the weakest things that live  in the dark bowels of the earth. 

 

Under the lime tree of Urban / the utmost east  part of Bulgaria/ ,the artist Atanas Sharenkov, a good friend of my Dad, gave me a present - “Ancient Greek legends and myths” by Nikolaus Coon.

That was the end of my carelessly childhood.There came the  first trembling of fear and doubts in my soul.

Because of one damned book, full of legends, the first written book in my life I had started to create plans for the glorification of my name.

 

A few months later after I had paged through the book over and over, another friend came to visit us to cook a lamb in a pit. Here comes the best part! 

For those who wanna know, here’s how to cook it : Put the lamb on a ground hole, set the fire and cover it with a thick sheet iron /which serves as a fitting for a clay lid/.

 

The elderly decided to dig the whole exactly under the lime tree! 

At this very moment I trembled, I remembered the story of Odysseus and his descent into the Kingdom of the Shadows in the land of the Cimmerians ...

They cutted the weasand of the black lamb closer to the pit, and its blood seeped along its edges, just like Kirka told Odysseus to do. 

While the elderly treated themselves with the vine, I jumped down and came back at a run armed with the wooden sword and armor which I had crafted myself. I holded an air over the hole as if I was a true warrior before battle and waited for the souls of the whole Greek mythology to jump out of it. Nobody paid me any attention.

Only Dad saw my anxiety and pulled me aside to understand what’s bothering me. I told him everything and he was overjoyed with my heroic deed. That was the first of our men's stories. They put the oven lamb on the table, spilled from the better wine, but i was too over excited to eat. I tapped my sword on the pavement and looked over the linden skin hanging on the linden tree. I watched it and wondered what it would be like to be golden.

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