People imagine the devil as this scary, red, horned and tailed demonic incarnation. They are not to blame. I do not know from where that representation originated; probably from biblical references or something like that.
I imagine the devil as a handsome man, clean-shaven, kind-faced, suited and booted man, with a Rolex worn on one hand and a bracelet beaded with the souls of his slaves (he’s friendly but let’s not forget that he is the source of most evil). He talks nice, listens, gives advice and leaves. That’s what he does, the devil, my friend, he listens to me and leaves me with precious preemptive measures incepted deep into my mind, making me think that it was I who came up with the wondrous epiphany in the first place.
Life without him would be boring. I thank God that he created the devil for us. Ironic, yeah, I know, but hear me out. Without evil and badness, there wouldn’t be any need for a reciprocal goodness to negate its effects in the first place. The world would end up becoming this dull blob of nicety, where wars wouldn’t be waged, the innocent’s blood wouldn’t be spilt and justice will be free for all, not that it will be needed.
Lust, temptation, wanton desire, we all desire that. My friend the devil, he knows us better than we do. He provides us with the necessary motive, the much needed incentive to go out and do things that we, in our sane state of mind, wouldn’t. Believe me, he’s all for leaps of faith.
When at night, I cant sleep, I start reciting God’s name out loud and that invokes my friend’s attention. He comes over, lulls me to sleep and makes sure nothing disturbs me anymore. Granted that he doesn’t want me taking the Lord’s name, but look what he is giving me in return: a dreamless sleep filled with utter tranquility.
When I forget where I placed my car keys or when I am tensely trying to crack the running time of a difficult algorithm, I turn to prayer. I spread out the prayer mat and start praying to God. But the devil, my sweet friend, he intercedes before God and makes me remember where I placed the keys and gives me new insight that allows me to figure out the algorithm.
When alone and bored, he injects morphinically, the seed of lust (wanderlust even) in me, making me deviate from my course of mundaneness and venture (or even merely foray) into fulfillment of carnal (not necessarily) desire.
I said it once, I’m going to say it again, life without the devil would be a boring self-righteous summer camp shit show. I’d rather have the devil in my life, sprucing it with the occasional sin and seduction….