OK Flood. I've told you before I'm not Christian but I do follow a faith. I think it's time I shared it with you all. But in order to so I have to tell you a little about myself. It might take a while, but I need to get this off my chest and spread the word. Everyone who takes the time to read it, thank you from the bottom of my heart. For the TLDRs, I understand. You might not have time to spare, you might not care about others problems and you might not care. But I hope everyone can find the serenity I have. My story starts 10 years ago in the UK. I was 16. Never really popular in school, no idea of what I wanted to do with my life. Leaving the structured environment of school life and with no social interaction at home I spiralled into depression. Wandering around the parks in my town I eventually ran into several dealers and quickly became hooked on several substances, mostly coke and weed. I started selling my body to pay for my habits and when I turned 18 I hit the drink. Hard. Around the time of my 19th birthday my parents, unsurprisingly, kicked me out of their house. I managed to rent a small one bedroom flat above a row of shops. For about 5 years my life was day after endless day of coke and sex with the drink and smoke bringing me down in the evenings. Having to pay for the flat also made it so I could no longer afford to eat, despite serving up to 20 "clients" a day. Obviously my health deteriorated. I spent most of my 20th year in and out of hospital. Surviving on cocaine, cannabis and alcohol at home, punctuated by the PEG feeds given on the ward. My habit continued to grow and with my increasing number of hospitalisations, I found myself earning less and less. About a month after my 21st birthday I was evicted from my flat and had my few possessions sold to cover what I owed. My parents took me back but, with my continuing abuse of myself and their house, I found myself homeless after a few months. I lost most of my regular clients then. Went from charging £80 an hour to giving £1 blowies in the alley behind blockbusters. On my next admission I was told by the doctors that I was on my last chance. I had to change my lifestyle NOW or I was going to die. I tried to stay clean, I really did. I didn't believe in anything and the prospect of death terrified me. But by the next day I was out of my mind on a cocktail of drink, pot, coke and drone. I ran out of money about midday but managed to beg and blow for enough spare change to keep myself in drink until closing time. Fortunately it was a warm summers night. I tried to find my way back to the alley behind blockbusters but got hopelessly lost and made myself a bed out of the donations behind a charity shop. Sitting propped against the wall with blood in my 'tache and vomit in my beard, broke and seriously ill, I realised I had reached the bottom of the pile. I really couldn't sink any lower. I honestly thought of killing myself there and then, when out of the air beside me I heard a voice. I can't explain what happened next, but somehow I knew in my heart and soul that this was the turning point in my life. If I listened to the voice I could pull myself up from the shit pit I had led myself into. I knew there and then that I would dedicate my life to whatever the voice said. "Hey, buddy". The voice said. "What?" I slurred. I looked over towards the voice and saw a pair of bright red shoes. "Hey buddy" the voice said again, "have a cheeseburger." I looked up past the shoes, the man was dressed in red, yellow and white, bathed in yellow light. His arm was out towards me and in it he held a small burger wrapped in paper. I took the burger from him, cautiously. I unwrapped it slowly and took my first apprehensive bite. It was awesome. I don't mean that like "Dude! Awesome!" I mean it filled me with awe. The soft plumpness of the bun, the juicy meat, the tangy crunch of gherkin, the sour sweet ketchup, the creamy cheese. I honestly believe that in that moment I knew how that caveman felt all those millennia ago when he first rubbed two sticks together and strung his kill over the pretty light he made then took the first ever bite of medium rare steak. I was a changed man. Reborn in that one savoury mouthful. I devoured the rest of the burger in seconds. I stared at the man, stumbling to my feet and propping myself up with the wall. "Who?" I managed. "I'm Ronald. Ronald McDonald." He said. I stared, dumbfounded. Where? Where could I get this? This cornucopia of taste? This horn of plenty? "Just look for the Golden Arches" I was suddenly wary as my uncle had been tricked by a cult of pizza worshipers several years before. I made my excuses and left. As I stumbled away into the night I was struck by a passing car and found myself back in hospital. When I was finally discharged I saw him again. I ran to him. Told him I was wrong, begged him to take me into his loving embrace. But it was a man in a costume. He screamed at me and threatened to beat me up. It was then, running for my life, that I saw them for the first time. The beautiful Golden Arches. I ran straight through the front doors off my new temple. Using the £5 the hospital gave me on discharge I bought 5 cheeseburgers. The next day, I went back and had 10. My life has turned itself round now. I visit the Golden Arches every day. I'm living with my parents again and about to start my first real job. There's a whole menu to choose from. Something for everyone. I've had a few of them so far. When I start earning I may even try a "meal". But I'll always get a side of cheeseburger. Because cheeseburger is love, cheeseburger is life. And Ronald McDonald is the prophet.