Itches #3 : Religion (Part One)

 

//could lean too much towards Christianity, but its not about A religion, more like the concept of it.//

Religion, do we need it? or do we want it?

Do you believe in an omnipotent being(s) that looks over you and or guides you in every moment of your life?

This is what I call the choosing.

Choose

Some of us are born into religion, others find it, then there are ones who understand it, though not necessarily in the same ways.

Personally I dislike the ‘born into religion’ choice, sure my parents were of mixed religions, so you might argue that I didn’t have a strong religious up-bringing. Okay, so I might not have gone to sunday school every single day, sure my church attendance would not get any notice, so I might not have church friends and have BFF deep talks with my pastor (FYI I don’t have one), but that never stopped me from trying to understand my religion.

It does not mean I did not read the book, it does not mean I do not appreciate HIM, but neither do I think that he owes me anything.

Let me tell you what I have seen. Sure there may be those who genuinely praise their Gods, they may read their holy books, pray at the right times, pray in the right places, associate with the right people. But most of these people get lost, they get lost in their religion and forget what it means.

You pray in the right places, with the right people, you sing hymns with the right people, but are you praying for the right reasons. You read the good book out loud, you do grand gestures to help people, but do you understand those words, or the people who you are helping.

I think I found him when I was in the darkest of places, sure I don’t talk about it, its because what I have with the big man, its between me and him. He gave me this life, I’m not going to disappoint him, sure it is hard sometimes, makes me want to give up, but there is no reason to blame him. Your God is not in the sky, neither is he below, he is what we carry in our heart of hearts, in the deeds we do, in the lives we live, and in what we give back.

So people may question me why I never seem to make time for God, why I never seem to go to church, never seem to look like I am a child of God. So I say, what is between me and the big man and me, are between the big man and me. I can only work as hard as I can and try to be good for him and try not to disappoint him or my mother to badly.

Sure I have some really bad times, sure I question myself, question my choices, but would there be a reason for questioning him, no, he did give us free will, our choices, our will, maybe he might give us guidance, but it is still up to us for understanding it.

What brought this on?

Understanding

So much of the evil in the world, was started, is starting, by people, not by God or Gods, it is not caused by religion, it is started by people who think they are carrying out some instruction from a book.The book is a guideline, its not a step-by-step instruction. and like any piece of literature it can be interpreted in many ways.

A while back there was a debate between a science and creationism. I myself, at that point, must admit did not fully grasp at what I had commented against creationism, I think what my main comment was that ‘No one hate on Mr Darwin’.

Humans have tried for ages to explain Science with God or God with Science. Which I think is a silly argument, but it is also so human that I cannot help but love the reason behind it, we are intrinsically a curious breed.

I would prefer to think Science is a way to pave the way to understand God, to understand the beauty of a supernova through a telescope, to wonder at the intricate make up of the human nervous system so unlike anyone else, to study the effect of eating ice cream too fast.

Using God to explain science might seem like an ugly argument in the making.

The book of Luke being my favourite of the many books in the bible, right next to Genesis and Revelations, what is more beautiful that the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end, and the story of a child who grew up to change the world one hand, one smile and miracle at a time.

To the skeptics and the atheists, he might even have not been the child of god, but more than one person got together to write books about one man, doing good deeds, one man who help people, a human like you or I, with his friends, his family, armed with words, a beating heart, and a burning need to tell people that things should not be this way.

But honestly it isn't ugly, we are all a collection of atoms and molecules, we are a magnificent mixture of things that wouldn’t have to or need to come together in this particular order but it did. Hoe did we come together, I am this collection of particular atoms, if I had different atoms would my thought be different would I not like Tea as much, would I be a boy or would I not be human at all, I would like to say this is the point where I laugh maniacally.

God does not play dice with the universe, not normal dice anyway, he has a pair of infinite sided dices with a  never ending scorecard, he is the ultimate DM in the MMORPG of existence,  if you lean towards a poly-theistic belief, the more the merrier.

Lover, War, Science, Technology, Belief, it all comes down to people, our minds are such beautiful and terrible places, we create, we destroy, we believe and sometimes we try to understand.

 

……to be continued.

Pandora

 

It hits you between the eyes when you are alone making the bed. You realize that the last few years you’ve been doing that degree, working dawn to dusk, browsing for potential master programs, all to please the others, of course you don’t mind.

 

You celebrate their happiness, their achievements, you celebrate when they congratulate you on your achievements. But do you really feel it in your heart?

 

Do they realize what you sacrificed to be this? the dreams quietly filed away in a drawer, secreted between the pages of a book now lying on that old dusty shelf. You doubt it, if you think of it you fall into the rabbit hole of broken dreams.

 

But if you could do it all again, would you do any different? would you not do that degree? would you go out with that aimless yet funny guy? No? why? Is it because you realized it would not matter, because there was no one worth doing it all for. Not even You are worth it.

 

Now you work fifty four hours a week, stare aimlessly at a screen at work and come home and eat dinner mechanically, check your messages and go to sleep. Then on Sunday, you come to that drawer, open it and see what you have given up, cry a bit, sift through the dreams, then close it again.

 

Then smile your secret smile, the sad one, not the one you show the world, the private one that you show yourself only. Your box is akin to Pandora’s, though all those bad things might have escaped into the world, hope still lies within, waiting to be called out. That hope keeps you going, that one day everything will be alright.

Its all alright, I guess Its all alright, I’ve got nothing left inside of my chest, but its all alright. ~ F.U.N.

Confession

I watch as I wait for that girl to come, the coffee shop seems quiet in the dusk, the customers speak in low murmurs, Sunday night, the people sipping one last drink before they start another week again.

 

I finish my coffee as I look at the sun descending into a brick  laden horizon, there would be no stars out tonight, it was cloudy a desperate day, it looked.

 

“Shall we start?” says a voice next to me, I didn’t even see her walk up to me, there is nothing remarkable about her, another page in my book, I take out my pen and lick the nib in a familiar motion, waving the pen in her direction to continue.

 

She smiles, the little curve by corner of her lips fascinate me, like secrets are hidden by those dear folds of skin.

 

You know I get tired of being me, I tired of being that girl, this is my confession, Father forgive me, listen and hear my words, the words in my heart and soul, the words unspoken in the tears that fall onto my pillow in the darkness, listen to the words so many times swallowed to make someone else happy.

 

Let me tell you how I dies, of how society killed me and my dreams. And why I keep coming back.

 

Once upon a time I had dreams, dreams so full of hope and colours, the stars in my eyes, and now those lights are dimmed, I forget what they were, my dreams you see, they kept me alive during the shadows that filled the dark corners of my childhood.

 

I grew up, the corners are now darker, the shadows thicker, and my dreams aren't as bright enough to keep me from sinking into their cobwebbed depths.

 

Sometimes, it takes all I have to hear myself speak, it takes all I have to keep going for another day, nothing differs you see, wake, get dressed, go to work, come home, get ready for bed, sleep, repeat.

 

It is a boring repetition, but it is good, it keeps my lines straight and my colours within. Some days are harder than others when I do truly wake, sometimes the tears come at inopportune times, like when you are making tea, or ironing clothes, maybe just cleaning your desk and then it all crashes down, the cold indifference of society.

 

My 5 year plan? no that is society's five year plan, t he masters, the imaginary-hopeful husband hunting, the future house in the making, thank you society for deciding it all for me. Thank you, yes I am being sarcastic.

 

Listen here as I speak.

 

Just let me be me for a day? no? I guessed that, being me would annoy you and anger you wouldn’t it.

 

Sorry that I am a bad human, I want to break down once in a while too, sometimes the pain is far too much for one person, and then you come and tell me about your unwanted problems, so I have to listen, I am too nice, if I am not nice I am a bitch, fuck you, I don’t give a damn about you, I don’t give a damn about your issues, your boyfriend or girlfriend, I don’t give a flying fuck about the time you got drunk and got your ex’s name tattooed on you ass, I am fucking tired of taking your shit, I don’t want to know how happy you are, why the fuck would I care, I wouldn’t care if the guy next door is actually banging his wife's sister, not my fucking problem.

 

You know why, its not my business, I have enough strays in my head without your faux-help, this masquerade is getting old, I know you lie, I know she lies, and you know that I am aware of your deception, so why keep going, you embarrass yourself, I cant turn to any of you bitches if I am in trouble, you would be of no help, why would I bother.

 

Listen here as I speak.

 

They ask me why I am alone, maybe its because I cannot bother, hah, or is it just something I tell people who I just do not want to talk to about it, am I afraid? of course, being alone is safe, no heartbreak, no drama, but sometimes I want to be selfish, I want someone for myself, I do not want a large love like a Taj Mahal, I do not want it to be a raging river, maybe a feather floating down in the wind, slowly, steadily surely, maybe I want it strong, I don’t want it to be a Romeo and Juliet, that would be sad and suicidal, maybe Macbeth, his lady was crazy but she did want what's best for him, No, I was what Sam and Frodo had, devotion and faith, I want someone to never give up on me, even though I might have given up on myself, I will wait for you Samwise Gamgee, and I will give as good as it gets.

 

Its not always bad you know, I have my good times too, but sometimes they are so far away, a month away a month gone, but when I do have them, I laugh till my heart is full of love, till its so full that it banishes the darkness and lightens the corners of my mind, Till the sun itself would be jealous of the brightness of the memories I have.

 

She sighs as she draws a star on the misted glass of the shop front.

 

Last month a friend I hadnt met in years talked to me, she asked me what I was doing during the weekend I told her I planned to stay in and read a book, she laughed, saying the girl she knew never did that,she asked me if I was joking and not really partying it up. No I wasn’t, I felt bad, I realized what had been taken from me, my light had been taken away, my hope still there, dim but not overtaken by darkness, my faith, hidden under coats of comfort, my will surrounded by bands of my strength and my heart, that poor bruised thing, she's in a woven basket by the fire, manhandled, nearly broken, let down so many times, but not out, not yet, that soft muscle of tissue, arteries and veins, she will keep beating, because she knows if not, her strength will falter, he faith will be doubted, her hope lost and her will battling for her.

 

I will keep going no matter how many times you push me down, you know why, Because I will not give you the satisfaction of failing, till I find my way to the mountains of Mordor, to drop in the unwanted weights that hang on to me.

 

Its colder now, a slight drizzle had started, the sir cool around us, I can see her breath cloud as she breathes out, looking into the sky.

 

Why don’t you fight back?

 

Because I will never be free, and my heart loves too much to hurt those who hurt me, to hate those who kill me everyday, to forget those who should forget.

 

That is my fault, I care, I care too much.

 

I close my notebook and I look at my muse, thank you, I tell her, for sharing your story with me.

 

It was..the least I could do, you know, she tells me silently, I can never say no, not when someone asks so nicely, smiling a sad smile she closes her eyes and turns her face skyward, catching the rain on her face.