Hunted By The Angels..

I wasn’t bullied or abused as a kid so my intense self-loathing and inward hatred has to come from somewhere, from something.

There are some places you know you just do not belong but yet you’re there anyway and you have no memory or recollection as to how you arrived whatsoever. How did I get here?

You’re born and then some people make decisions and choices and actually swim somewhere and I’m not entirely different. I make decisions. I make choices. Where I differ is that I have no control over where I’m swimming. My entire life has been perpetually caught in an oceanic undertow. I keep swimming and it takes me wherever it wants to.

I have full control over my decisions but it doesn’t seem to matter. You just hang there in limbo, pummeled and violently thrown head over foot, slowly suffocating but you went into the ocean didn’t you? Why? You knew the risks but you chose anyway because what’s the worst that could happen. You’re waist deep. In control.

No.

You’re not.

We amble through the redundancies of daily life like zombies, lured in by success, fame, money and ego and we don’t even realize that nothing fucking matters. Existence is an undertow. Life throws you wherever it wants to and by the time you realize that you’re either on death’s doorstep or it’s too late to do anything about it. Not that you could anyway.

Power means nothing. Our possessions own us and credit scores and criminal records are Scarlet Letters we will never be able to remove. You can’t please anyone. You can’t make anyone happy either and that dependence or co-dependence on the approval of others bends you to its will.

People come and go from day to day. Some die young and society always says the same trite things. “Taken from this world too soon!”, “A bright flame extinguished!”

Says you.

No one can ever know where a person will end up in life. You think Hitler’s parents ever foresaw their child’s future turning out like that?

God is not perfect. I don’t care what anyone says about that. You can’t blame everything on sin, the Devil or choices because sometimes people are just trash and I think God needs to own up to their mistakes. If God made us in his image, what kind of God is he??

Think about this; merely touching the spinal cord lightly can paralyze a human being permanently. Is God that fucking fragile too?

It doesn’t matter how saintly a person can be for them to trip, fall down an uncovered sewer grate and die. That’s God’s plan? Really?? Happenstance, coincidence and accidents are God’s immaculate plan for Sewer Guy?

Then what’s the fucking point of being alive if everything is in God’s hands. If it’s all predestined and basically scripted, why should I give a shit about other people or other things or politics or even be a good person to myself??

I don’t like the notion of being a Sim in God’s video game.

“But, if you commit suicide you go to Hell!”

Says the bible…sort of. And why do you go to Hell? Because you took control out of God’s hands and fucked up his simulation? So, then if we all have free will, it shouldn’t matter. Now, killing one’s self seems more like a punishment than free will.

No. Go ahead and rationalize it for me. I’ll wait…

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s