A gothic church. A confessional. A priest sits back to the wall. A man kneels in prayer. A wall divides them.
Priest: What sins have you to confess, my son?
Man: I believed, father.
Priest: Believing is not a sin.
Man: It should be.
Priest: What did you believe?
Man: I believed 2024 would be different, father. I believed this year would look different than other years.
Priest: Did it not?
Man: It did not.
Priest: Do you regret your belief?
Man: How can I?
Priest: Then why do you confess it as sin?
Man: What else can I do? What is the purpose of this all if we don’t succumb to the belief that year ahead will be different, will be better, than the year just experienced?
Priest: Is the belief based upon tangible changes you’ve witnessed or mere faith?
Man: This year, it was based on tangible developments. I saw things, positive things. There was a logical mental progression made. There was reason, father, real reason to believe.
Priest: Do you feel duped?
Man: I do.
Priest: Are you disappointed?
Man: Profoundly.
Priest: Disappointment can only be felt when one allows themselves to have expectations. And expectations come with an emotional commitment to a better world. You hope for a better world.
Man: Yes. A better world.
Priest: But expectations must also be managed. Like a delicatessen or football team must be managed.
Man: I know.
Priest: Are you capable of managing your expectations?
Man: I don’t know.
Priest: What do you perceive as your primary obstacle?
Man: Joy.
Priest: How so?
Man: What is the point of getting up each day, each Monday, each Thursday, each Sunday, and engaging with a world if that engagement brings you no joy? The joy is in the belief that things will be better. As soon as I relinquish that, I relinquish everything.
Priest: So, you’ll continue to believe. And my son, perhaps 2025 will be better than 2024.
Man: Do you really think so, father?
Priest: I believe.
Man: Amen.
Priest: Say one Hail Mary, and you will be absolved.
Man: The fucking Hail Mary…
End.
