"There is an alternate universe inside every one of us. Just go outside and lie down and look up into the sun and close your eyes...
Do you see it? The red mist, the dancing shapes and specks of colors...the pulsing shadows...the calmness... And if you keep your eyes shut long enough, the red mist may slowly transform into a light green... If you gently massage your eyeballs, on either side may appear silent explosions of color, a dark and hazy blue... It's little things like this that make me wonder at the mind of God, how brilliantly beautiful and beautifully brilliant His mind really is! I don't so much marvel at the things visible and obvious (though, who am I kidding? Orchids...very visible. VERY COOL. And how bout that milky smoke from a cigarette? Oh yeah...), but the things no one else necessarily sees but me...? I love that. The thought that we all, to some degree, do see things differently. We all access things so uniquely to the rest... Amazing really. That's all I have to say. Time to get back to the universe inside me..."
So I wrote that awhile back. When I was on fire for my existence and God and all that jazz.
But things aren't the same anymore. While still I marvel at the things of this world, and do see a creation, and therefore an Artist... I see no goodness in the artist. In fact I see God now as this mad (daft, crazy, loony, psycho, maniacal) puppet master up in the sky, a genius inventor, a disturbed painter of all things beautiful (and all things twisted) whose objective is to torment the world. The atheists, the agnostics, the Christians, the Buddhists, the Jews, the Nihilists, the Existentialists, the Muslims, the Hindus, the whites and the blacks and the yellows and the spades and the homosexuals and the straights....all who ultimately, I believe (or do I? do I in actuality only want to believe in this fantasy, so that I no longer will have to adhere to the "moral code," the "Law," etc?) are deserving of heaven (or maybe a better term would be eternal happiness, or rest), contrary to the Bible on which I've been raised all my life, which teaches all men are by default totally depraved and totally helpless and totally deserving of hell. And these people, us, the humans, were created by an all-knowing, all-powerful, sovereign, "good" God who put a tree in a garden to "test" us, a test he knew we ultimately would fail. And so we did, ultimately, fall. And thus sin entered the world. For which we were held responsible. For which was created as a result a place of eternal anguish, a place called hell, as punishment. And so God made hell. And then God, to entertain himself and make himself seem good (as if it mattered what we thought) sent his Son to die for us. And then we could, upon physical death, be in heaven with God forever... Do you see my problem? Do you possibly see THE problem with this? It's all God's fault, yet we have been brainwashed, in a sense, or rather "conditioned," to believe it's our fault and we are deserving of hell. But people, right now I am struggling very much with this concept. I look at Jesus, and love him. Indeed I talk about him as if he is alive. I cry when I sing songs about the man...but I have a hard time believing in GOD. The powerful entity "to whom and from whom are all things..."
I have dealt with much embarrassing sins in my life which I cannot name because I am not at peace with myself and the world and therefore am too weak to name them specifically. But all I can say is during all these trials I tried and tried and tried to remain in dialogue with God, and I asked and asked and asked that he take away all of this. And he remained silent. He did not act. The God I believed in, the One who could do anything, "because he IS God," seemed incapable of stopping me. And still he has not taken away my sufferings. My disgusting, enslaving tendencies.
He has only seemed to say, "Quit whining about your problems and do something about it. I'm not going to just stop the order of things for YOU, JP. I work miracles for cancer. But come on, seriously? Get a grip, JP. This is something YOU can help."
"But God!! I can't!! I need help!!"
Silence.
Still, I love Jesus. But I hate God. And anyone who knows theology and about the Triune God, the Three in One...would no that statement doesn't make sense. But that's really the only way I can describe it.
And then something else happens. On my birthday, on prom night, on the way to meet up with our group at Brooklyn Bridge, we wreck. We're driving along Raleigh-Lagrange out in Eads, and it has just rained, the road is wet and slippery...distraction...we wreck. The car, my car, wraps around a pole (telephone pole?) and into a ditch. And after the bumping around and shattering of glass and world spinning madly around... I've never been so scared in my life. I was prepared to look over at Anna and see her face faceless and bloody and call out to her, "Anna!" and get nothing out of her. I was afraid that I had killed my dearest friend. And when I looked over to her, I saw she was fine. Not even a scratch. Still beautiful and untouched...her dress was not even wrinkled. And we got out fine... But I was furious (You'd think I'd be happy to be alive and happy for her as well, but I'm selfish and foolish and just an all-around awful person), with God, myself, the sight of my car....I was furious for not having died on impact, furious for still being trapped in this mysterious world that offers no answer...
"WHAT THE FUCK GOD!!!" I cried. Anna and Tim and Jessica (my two precious friends who, bless their hearts, stopped and waited with us) walked away quickly from me. I desperately whined, a whisper, looking straight up into the clouds as if I might actually seem him there, "Are you just trying to get me, God? Huh? Is that it God?" I clenched my teeth, "You just wanna fuck with me? ..... FUCK!!!" (I swear I don't normally swear so much.) I put a nice dent in the side of my already-banged-up car with my nice white shiny dance shoe.
Anyway, eventually the ambulance came (no need for that, but thanks anyway, pizza delivery boy). Then the parents came. They were all cool, just glad both me and Anna were okay. Then the Sheriff and his boys got there. And we ended up waiting around (and blah blah blah). We eventually ended up going to Prom anyway. And we sorta had fun. But that's not the point.
People keep saying we're blessed to be alive. And I say to myself, "whatever." God cause that wreck to happen and God kept us alive and for what? So I could keep screaming at him? Because that's all I ever do. I honestly wish he wasn't here, but He is. And I'm forced to deal with that. I'm a sinner. But I don't love God in the slightest.
I'll be reading Bertrand Russel's Why I'm Not a Christian soon, hopefully I'll get some answers from that guy. Hopefully I'll come to the conclusion that God is a superstition and prayer and the mentioning of Christian terms is just a bad habit that I'll have to break... I hope that's the case. But if it's not the case, well, I'd like to not go to hell.
I dunno, if you who are reading are a Christian, pray for me please.
So I wrote that awhile back. When I was on fire for my existence and God and all that jazz.
But things aren't the same anymore. While still I marvel at the things of this world, and do see a creation, and therefore an Artist... I see no goodness in the artist. In fact I see God now as this mad (daft, crazy, loony, psycho, maniacal) puppet master up in the sky, a genius inventor, a disturbed painter of all things beautiful (and all things twisted) whose objective is to torment the world. The atheists, the agnostics, the Christians, the Buddhists, the Jews, the Nihilists, the Existentialists, the Muslims, the Hindus, the whites and the blacks and the yellows and the spades and the homosexuals and the straights....all who ultimately, I believe (or do I? do I in actuality only want to believe in this fantasy, so that I no longer will have to adhere to the "moral code," the "Law," etc?) are deserving of heaven (or maybe a better term would be eternal happiness, or rest), contrary to the Bible on which I've been raised all my life, which teaches all men are by default totally depraved and totally helpless and totally deserving of hell. And these people, us, the humans, were created by an all-knowing, all-powerful, sovereign, "good" God who put a tree in a garden to "test" us, a test he knew we ultimately would fail. And so we did, ultimately, fall. And thus sin entered the world. For which we were held responsible. For which was created as a result a place of eternal anguish, a place called hell, as punishment. And so God made hell. And then God, to entertain himself and make himself seem good (as if it mattered what we thought) sent his Son to die for us. And then we could, upon physical death, be in heaven with God forever... Do you see my problem? Do you possibly see THE problem with this? It's all God's fault, yet we have been brainwashed, in a sense, or rather "conditioned," to believe it's our fault and we are deserving of hell. But people, right now I am struggling very much with this concept. I look at Jesus, and love him. Indeed I talk about him as if he is alive. I cry when I sing songs about the man...but I have a hard time believing in GOD. The powerful entity "to whom and from whom are all things..."
I have dealt with much embarrassing sins in my life which I cannot name because I am not at peace with myself and the world and therefore am too weak to name them specifically. But all I can say is during all these trials I tried and tried and tried to remain in dialogue with God, and I asked and asked and asked that he take away all of this. And he remained silent. He did not act. The God I believed in, the One who could do anything, "because he IS God," seemed incapable of stopping me. And still he has not taken away my sufferings. My disgusting, enslaving tendencies.
He has only seemed to say, "Quit whining about your problems and do something about it. I'm not going to just stop the order of things for YOU, JP. I work miracles for cancer. But come on, seriously? Get a grip, JP. This is something YOU can help."
"But God!! I can't!! I need help!!"
Silence.
Still, I love Jesus. But I hate God. And anyone who knows theology and about the Triune God, the Three in One...would no that statement doesn't make sense. But that's really the only way I can describe it.
And then something else happens. On my birthday, on prom night, on the way to meet up with our group at Brooklyn Bridge, we wreck. We're driving along Raleigh-Lagrange out in Eads, and it has just rained, the road is wet and slippery...distraction...we wreck. The car, my car, wraps around a pole (telephone pole?) and into a ditch. And after the bumping around and shattering of glass and world spinning madly around... I've never been so scared in my life. I was prepared to look over at Anna and see her face faceless and bloody and call out to her, "Anna!" and get nothing out of her. I was afraid that I had killed my dearest friend. And when I looked over to her, I saw she was fine. Not even a scratch. Still beautiful and untouched...her dress was not even wrinkled. And we got out fine... But I was furious (You'd think I'd be happy to be alive and happy for her as well, but I'm selfish and foolish and just an all-around awful person), with God, myself, the sight of my car....I was furious for not having died on impact, furious for still being trapped in this mysterious world that offers no answer...
"WHAT THE FUCK GOD!!!" I cried. Anna and Tim and Jessica (my two precious friends who, bless their hearts, stopped and waited with us) walked away quickly from me. I desperately whined, a whisper, looking straight up into the clouds as if I might actually seem him there, "Are you just trying to get me, God? Huh? Is that it God?" I clenched my teeth, "You just wanna fuck with me? ..... FUCK!!!" (I swear I don't normally swear so much.) I put a nice dent in the side of my already-banged-up car with my nice white shiny dance shoe.
Anyway, eventually the ambulance came (no need for that, but thanks anyway, pizza delivery boy). Then the parents came. They were all cool, just glad both me and Anna were okay. Then the Sheriff and his boys got there. And we ended up waiting around (and blah blah blah). We eventually ended up going to Prom anyway. And we sorta had fun. But that's not the point.
People keep saying we're blessed to be alive. And I say to myself, "whatever." God cause that wreck to happen and God kept us alive and for what? So I could keep screaming at him? Because that's all I ever do. I honestly wish he wasn't here, but He is. And I'm forced to deal with that. I'm a sinner. But I don't love God in the slightest.
I'll be reading Bertrand Russel's Why I'm Not a Christian soon, hopefully I'll get some answers from that guy. Hopefully I'll come to the conclusion that God is a superstition and prayer and the mentioning of Christian terms is just a bad habit that I'll have to break... I hope that's the case. But if it's not the case, well, I'd like to not go to hell.
I dunno, if you who are reading are a Christian, pray for me please.
i love you .
ReplyDeletei'm praying for you .
i understand this , so much more than you could know.
the world [or God or whatever you're holding to]
isn't quite done with you yet.
remember that .
we shall talk more .
:]