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You ever look at yourself?
One AM, just short, you're sitting on an uncomfortable bed in ripped jeans and a tank top you've been blowing your nose on the hem of. Your face is covered in tears and snot. You've got a laptop on your lap, and you just keep pouring out words that no one will ever hear, into a file that no one will ever read.
You ever look at yourself and realize how goddamn useless you are?
Come on, God, I know you're there somewhere. I found you that one beautiful blessed morning, twenty some hours into the sleep dep, and all cried out. It was crisp and cold and beautiful, and You forgave me. For everything. For once in my life I HAD NO SELF HATE, and I was forgiven of all my sins, and the world looks so damn beautiful. You're somewhere deep in my fucked up soul, knowing full well that I've found you, and that I worship you just as much as any proper member of any proper religion. I just do it differently, and that difference makes me kinda wrong.
But I know you're there. It took bright yellow leaves along Massachusetts Avenue to realize, but I have faith, and dear lord, does that scare me. I'm not Christian or Jewish or Muslim or Pagan or Wiccan or Buddhist or Hindu or Pastafarian or anything that anyones heard of, I'm just me, and just really fucked the hell up, but I know that someone's out there, because I can feel her. That's what faith is, it's not believing that the lord made everything in just six days, or that dinosaurs never existed, it's the undeniable knowledge that there is Something There, inside you and inside *everyone*. I worship the same god as everyone else I know, I want her to keep me safe and happy and to protect my friends and family. Everyone has the same faith, we just dress her up a little differently, do different things to keep her placated.
True Satanism has one commandment: Thou Art God. If I had to pick a name for what I am, it'd be Satanist, because she's there somewhere deep inside me, and she's there someone deep inside everyone. This is what makes us human and binds us together and makes us care about each other and smile at pictures of kittens and argue about generations of star trek and enjoy dancing and talk to strangers on the street and do everything that we do. This is the spark that separates us from the true sociopaths, that one little thing that makes us human and animals not.
This is god, and this is what she is to me, and that's all there is to it. I talk to her, sometimes, and yes, I've done it inside churches, but yes, I've also done it on city streets and curled up in my room and outside in my tree. God is everywhere I am, because we are one and the same, and god*damn* I'm glad she's looking out for me.
I just wish I could summon her, but that's the point, you *can't* You have to be smarter then that, have to make yourself happy by yourself, and for that glorious beautiful hour, where you *literally* feel like singing aloud, you have to hold on and enjoy the hell out of it, because it doesn't happen all the time. When she forgives you, go ahead and skip, and laugh for no reason, and smile widely at strangers. She's giving you a random stupid spontaneous gift, and fuck man, this is better then christmas.
I've been truly honestly happy, once. It's a dizzying experience. The closest term for it is transcendence, I believe. For one hour out of my life, I was perfect.
That's god for you. For me. She made me perfect.
...that's why I'm still living. Because if it happened once, it can happen again. Because that pure unbridled self acceptance, that dizzying amazing love love love love LOVE, that point where nothing else in all the world matters, is the most addictive feeling I've ever expirienced, and all I want is to have it happen to me again.
And that means I better keep on living, as best I can.
Fuck society. So I don't conform to what they think I ought to, tough for them. I conform to what I think I ought to. That's all that really matters in the long run, isn't it?
A very emotionally twisted
BehindTheWalls.
[0114]
One AM, just short, you're sitting on an uncomfortable bed in ripped jeans and a tank top you've been blowing your nose on the hem of. Your face is covered in tears and snot. You've got a laptop on your lap, and you just keep pouring out words that no one will ever hear, into a file that no one will ever read.
You ever look at yourself and realize how goddamn useless you are?
Come on, God, I know you're there somewhere. I found you that one beautiful blessed morning, twenty some hours into the sleep dep, and all cried out. It was crisp and cold and beautiful, and You forgave me. For everything. For once in my life I HAD NO SELF HATE, and I was forgiven of all my sins, and the world looks so damn beautiful. You're somewhere deep in my fucked up soul, knowing full well that I've found you, and that I worship you just as much as any proper member of any proper religion. I just do it differently, and that difference makes me kinda wrong.
But I know you're there. It took bright yellow leaves along Massachusetts Avenue to realize, but I have faith, and dear lord, does that scare me. I'm not Christian or Jewish or Muslim or Pagan or Wiccan or Buddhist or Hindu or Pastafarian or anything that anyones heard of, I'm just me, and just really fucked the hell up, but I know that someone's out there, because I can feel her. That's what faith is, it's not believing that the lord made everything in just six days, or that dinosaurs never existed, it's the undeniable knowledge that there is Something There, inside you and inside *everyone*. I worship the same god as everyone else I know, I want her to keep me safe and happy and to protect my friends and family. Everyone has the same faith, we just dress her up a little differently, do different things to keep her placated.
True Satanism has one commandment: Thou Art God. If I had to pick a name for what I am, it'd be Satanist, because she's there somewhere deep inside me, and she's there someone deep inside everyone. This is what makes us human and binds us together and makes us care about each other and smile at pictures of kittens and argue about generations of star trek and enjoy dancing and talk to strangers on the street and do everything that we do. This is the spark that separates us from the true sociopaths, that one little thing that makes us human and animals not.
This is god, and this is what she is to me, and that's all there is to it. I talk to her, sometimes, and yes, I've done it inside churches, but yes, I've also done it on city streets and curled up in my room and outside in my tree. God is everywhere I am, because we are one and the same, and god*damn* I'm glad she's looking out for me.
I just wish I could summon her, but that's the point, you *can't* You have to be smarter then that, have to make yourself happy by yourself, and for that glorious beautiful hour, where you *literally* feel like singing aloud, you have to hold on and enjoy the hell out of it, because it doesn't happen all the time. When she forgives you, go ahead and skip, and laugh for no reason, and smile widely at strangers. She's giving you a random stupid spontaneous gift, and fuck man, this is better then christmas.
I've been truly honestly happy, once. It's a dizzying experience. The closest term for it is transcendence, I believe. For one hour out of my life, I was perfect.
That's god for you. For me. She made me perfect.
...that's why I'm still living. Because if it happened once, it can happen again. Because that pure unbridled self acceptance, that dizzying amazing love love love love LOVE, that point where nothing else in all the world matters, is the most addictive feeling I've ever expirienced, and all I want is to have it happen to me again.
And that means I better keep on living, as best I can.
Fuck society. So I don't conform to what they think I ought to, tough for them. I conform to what I think I ought to. That's all that really matters in the long run, isn't it?
A very emotionally twisted
BehindTheWalls.
[0114]
no subject
on 2007-12-21 06:49 am (UTC)*writes email*
no subject
on 2007-12-21 11:36 am (UTC)http://southerncrossreview.org/29/pagels.htm is a different view of the struggles to accept faith. Pagels went through Hell, but as a theologian, she used that experience to look back on the early church and find something that spoke to her.
Several times I've found that peace and love you're speaking of. While I am a baptized Christian, I would have to turn to Buddhism and say that I felt like I was brushing against nirvana. Not there exactly, but close.
We all have times like you've written about and I've cried my guts out many times. I can't be there for you in person, but I do love you.
no subject
on 2007-12-21 08:28 pm (UTC)(i lovesyatoo, btw)
Some wishes
on 2007-12-23 04:36 am (UTC)I wish I had gotten as far as you seem to have in such thoughts in my first year of college.
I wish my own religion of choice (UU) could be helpful to you (but that didn't sound like a 'anybody know a good religion to belong to?' type of post)
I wish we could talk more about faith (no, the Faith I usually talk about)-- the uncannily and compassionately rational kind that keeps me moving forward when all of hell is playing with my own emotions. This faith has nothing to do with religion. And while its background music may be the Rolling Stones' "You can't always get what want...", that is really a playful joke, because if I want it bad enough and it doesn't involve another person's will, then so often I will get what I want.
And I wish I could hear more about that one hour of true happiness. (My moment was not so much of happiness, but of relief, of understanding, of "OH! So THAT's how it is! Of course it is!" And god, what I would give for some more of that right now.)
For whatever it's worth...