Secondo Il Dio-Religion

Salieri was kind of crazy. And deluded. And sad.
Ah well. No one's perfect (so stop trying).


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“Your favor has shifted, God. I can feel it inside me. In my bones the change has made me stiffer. I am less free, less able to produce my—our—work. I have been stuck for weeks; nothing inspires me anymore. No age-ripened grandmother or peach-soft girl stir up images that give me a Revelation feeling. It’s all empty. Why won’t you make me feel whole, God? Let yourself into me. Let yourself shine through me and onto a canvas for everyone to see. To love and to worship like I worship you. Your absence hurts me more than any woman’s has. As few as of them as there have been…
“Oh God, why are you doing this to me? You know how much I love you, how much I adore you. You know it’s Your image I paint under. You know it’s You I’m trying to see in all of my portraits; you know You are in my thoughts with every stroke. You know I cannot paint without You with me.
“So why have your given yourself to him? Why are you letting yourself be prostituted by his ugly hands, his heavy, uneven strokes that somehow speak only of You?
“I just don’t understand.
“Why him and not me?”
In the dimness of candles burning, no one answered.
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