I have believed in deities. I can recall how I used to feel such angst and guilt about denouncing God and going against the 'truths' that were thrown at me since I was three and started questioning the concept of death, the infinite and sin.
My father an I were driving home two weeks ago and we somehow were on the topic of faith. He said he looks to God when he make mistakes and God answers. 'that's not God, dad it's you... You know more than you think you do and it's your own intuition. You're meditating.' When I said this it was as if I had punched the air right out of his lungs. My grandma always said that doubt is just Satan. I've come to realize that Satan is just a Christian excuse for truth. I mean, if you think about it? What is prayer? It's your innermost thoughts. You pray when it's quiet, you can collect your thoughts and subconsiously you're coming to your own conclusions.
Sympathetically, I justified that I was in a bad mood. My grandma is assuredly going to die soon and I know that my dad has to believe that she will always be around and because he feels like this flawed marriage of him exposes some sort of martyrdom for the greater good? I realized he can have his God if that helps him wake up in the morning. I will never ever get married, not ever. This is at no fault of my parents... but marriage has to feel like guilt, look at the statistics. A ring and a ridiculous instituted law, isn't going to make you appreciate a person more. If anything, it's a mark on a person... you can not cheat on me because you are bound by this ring... you have to love me forever because we professed it in front of all these people and we can't deal with this embarrassment. Pish posh. If marriage and relationships are for you, no judgements. If you're really happy... awesome. That's wonderful, it's just not for me. I'm entirely too selfish, I want to travel... I like to be alone.
People keep telling me they're praying for my health and I always politely decline their offers. God isn't going to regulate my white blood cell count. My problems are biological and outside of science if anything it is due to stagnating my energy. When your energy stagnates you get sick. It's science. Only I can make myself better... My brain can fix anything and if it can't? Well I'm certainly not afraid of death. I don't seek it out or want it but when I can't even raise my head because I'm so tired and vomiting for no reason, I feel resigned to it. It's inevitable. Every living thing dies.
For my entrance letter to USC I wrote about my life always being like baseball. You steal bases (as i've mentioned before), you strike out and sometimes when you hit victory? You shatter your ankle and your dad has to carry you off the field as the crowd is marked with a heavy silence. You go home, you shower the dirt out of your strawberries and when you're alone you let the dirt wash out and you fucking cry. Never let the crowd see you cry. You're impenetrable, you hit grand slams... the homeruns, the glory. That's all people ever care about anyway.
Men baffle me as well. The fickleness... the string of emotions, the longing for a substantial title... the need for validation.
I always wondered why I have attracted the likes of older men. I oftened wondered if it was my uncanny ability to talk for hours, or if it was the fact that I'm so motherly... Or maybe it's simply because I have lived all over the world and encountered so much in my 26 years of existence. I've been mugged, beaten, broken in so many ways and somehow I haven't gone entirely insane. Sanity is a relative term anyhow. This isn't a third world country and there are no excuses for insanity here in America unless, like I said, it's biological. But they try to make it so you can't even differentiate between the two. It's a fault of society. I've been a weepy girl before, I've cried about men my age and hate it. With older men, there is a sense of power though. They're much easier to manipulate. Why is this? I'm curious. But from all I know now? I've come to the conclusion that age does not equate to enlightenment. Sometimes? Middle aged men are just as uncertain about life as the girl who has her whole life sitting in two mismatched suitcases and a one way ticket to the city. I couldn't fix them but I could listen... and I always did. They're still broken... and I find myself not caring anymore. I'm no longer coming up with solutions in my head. Even after they hurt me, they still come to advice and I'd help them fix things. I like to fix things... or rather, I used to like to. I don't know what happened.
I dated this guy in NYC. He was 34. I kept him breathing when he was too intoxicated to do it on his own. I listened to him rant and rant when he was coked out beyond belief. I gave him solutions. Before I moved to NY? We'd talk for hours on the phone. Like seven hour marathons about evolution, history, mammoths and great apes. I was 25. We often talked about God, I used to assure him, "God is real, Bill. I know this because I'm still alive and I can feel it." They were empty words though. Second nature lines. We both knew I was lying. That guilt that I used to feel when I was uncertain... has left me, and from my experiences with the mormon church? I have bore my testimony once and when I babbled about God being true, my heart swelled I would think about how much I loved my Grandma, this amazing woman that took care of me when I was broken. She's the epitome of what mother's should be, something I really never knew anything about. I realize now, that my love and confession was probably all aimed toward my gratitude for her... and all this time? It was never about God. There are good beings and there are bad beings, and I don't think anything dictates that... or if there is, I can't feel it.
I'll like a guy for years but the second they start to commit to me? I immediately want to run away. I don't know what it is. I think I like the concept of love, or chasing the unobtainable... longing is just more desirable. It's like beating a video game, there is all this suspense and build up... you die... you start again and then... the cinematics roll and LAAAAAAA... you did it! You beat the gd game!!! Well, now what? You want another game, dude! You don't ravel in your accomplishment for years to come, hell no, you want another game and you want one now! Or maybe that's just me. I don't know, maybe people are like really good books. I can read certain novels over and over again and love them much more every single time... but I still want to read other books.
I've lost many guy friends because of this... I think I purposefully push people away so I can miss them. Is that strange? Everybody else my age is making out and having sex... but I don't. I haven't kissed a guy in months. Or I have, just recently... but prior to that, it had been seven or eight months and the last time I felt weightless when I kissed somebody, that was over a year and a half ago... with Steve in Long Island. I kissed my best friend in May and immediately hated him afterward. I moved away and we didn't talk for months until we were both dating it's like we are meant to hate each other every few weeks. It's strange. I can't find that static anywhere. I've kissed two best friends and another guy since Steve. My belly stayed empty... it's like a rock. Steve rode the train from Long Island into the city, I got there an hour early because I was so nervous. I made friends with the a handsome fellow at the bar with an amazing Bronx accent and when Steve walked up to me... I was submerged in conversations of Murakami and baseball with the dashing fellow. He walked up excitedly, dressed up and excited and I gave him the 'i'll be with you in one moment finger'. All summer I had anticipated seeing him in NY... the first kiss and the following kisses afterward were great but I felt a sense of gloom the entire night at the bar and kept going out to talk to his friends. I'd act out too because I was afraid of getting bored of him, I always knew THAT... that was inevitable. I never really truly started to miss him until he walked away from me. I never told him this... but I think he knows.
As far as my ADHD is concerned I've made a conscious decision to stop taking my medication after school let out. Withdrawel is inevitable, apparently... but I get tired of wanting to be normal. I want to sleep for once, I don't want to have to take klonopin to bring me down. When you break it all down, it feels like a big conspiracy aimed towards conformity. Was psychology and immensely populated major? Do they so badly need jobs? This isn't the fucking New Deal, FDR has been dead for years... this is just reality... in my opinion and how dull would life be if we weren't surrounded by crazies?
And the whole truth behind my reality is just as simple as I don't believe in God and we are all solely accountable for all the corruption that blankets our world. It's not Satan, it isn't a universal lesson it's just plain and simple truth and you can take it with a heavy hand, run away from it or just accept it. Be selfish, we are all entitled to everything we ever wanted and it really is so simple and all I have ever wanted was to do what I wanted, excactly when I wanted to do it, it's not a disorder, I don't feel it's who I am... and I've done it and now I'm back in school in a stifling town that drives me absolutely nuts because some day? I want to work with monkeys and I want to write amazing stories and have the credentials to back me up. Because that's what you need. I used to think that with the right talent it'd just fall upon me. It's rare but it happens to people and reality gets skewed by hope, which can be utterly false. Love, hope, guilt. What's real? You have to deal with the facts... but truth has always been difficult for humans. (Like I was watching Big Cat diary the other day... and a mama lion was looking for her missing cub. The cub had been suffocated and smashed by a rogue male. She stood by the body, nudged it with her nose... let out a cry while her other cubs also nudged the corpse and whined and with their heads bowed... they walked away. In the natural kingdom, there really isn't any time for grief or reminiscing and the sick get left behind because that's how Darwinism works. The sick bring you down... the sick die.)
So it is sort of baffling how humans are handicapped by emotions, and why such insignificant factors can be debilitating. I think that's why I get frustrated so often. On my free time, I play video games, read and write stories for my D&D character because I find habits of people my age and beyond... boring. It's immature, it's uncanny... it's whatever. It's funny that we have the luxury of imagination, like it really is a gift. There's never an excuse for boredom if you use your mind correctly. I daydream a lot. I do it with all my best friends... whether I'm playing Wow with Alex or talking about running away with Kristen, or if I'm simply talking about games, books and South Park with Marilyn. I love talking... I like challenging thought and I like debating. I write without censoring myself... sometimes I'm too honest, sometimes I'm mean... and rarely do I bite my tongue. My mouth has always gotten me in trouble, my attitude and my lack of regard for tact. I realize that this blog may be entirely offensive to some... maybe if you make it this far, you'll pray for me but I'm not sorry and sometimes... I just need to type and type and type because my head is so full and I'm too tired to call or see anybody... so I have to talk. I'm always going to talk.
