a party of one

I don't really know the meaning of the word lonely. Every day I have a party in my mind. And I find that party immensely more satisfying than partying with other people.

Why?

Who knows. It could be a deep-seated disappointment with dealing with others. It may be that I prefer my own company. I suspect it's a bit of both.

I also feel much safer with me than I do with anyone else. I have control over my mouth and I am not surprised at a later date to find out things I've said about myself.

It might seem sad to some, but I like myself. And I like my own company. How many people can say that about themselves?


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Christian asses

Well, a couple of days have gone by and my level of irritation has dropped considerably.

When the other person in a conversation uses poorly constructed emotional appeals to attempt to support some illogical conclusions, and then that person uses those conclusions to excuse his pointedly harsh condemnation (out of love for your damned soul, of course -- just being honest and calling "an apple an apple"), for every error he perceives in your life, it is difficult to remain calm, cool and collected. Being bludgeoned with the club of "I'm a Christian and I know what you need and if you don't accept it you're damned to hell, but please believe that my motives in doing this are pure," is infuriating, especially when this dolt is the fruit of your own body.

Admittedly, when I was an Evangelical Christians, I made a complete ass out of myself more times than I care to remember. I was a moron. I guess now it's his turn to make an ass out of himself. The only problem is, he was an already a pretty big ass without Christianity. Now he's just a self-righteous ass.

He actually had the gall to claim that I was never a "real" Christian because I had moral failures in my life while a Christian. Somehow in his fractured logic, to have failures while "saved" PROVES I was never a "Real Christian™," never had the magical Holy Ghost renewing my spirit, never really ever converted, and was only pretending the whole damned time. I was, apparently, a faker.

Technically, I more-or-less agree with him. There is no such thing as a real Christian, because it's all delusional pretending on the part of the believer. The believer doesn't necessarily realize he or she is deluded, and may be quite sincere, but the whole magical ghost in your heart thing is self-imposed fantasy.

Regardless, what he was saying to me is that my moral lapses as a "Christian" and my poor decisions in other areas of life conclusively showed that all my previous motivations as a Christian had either evil intent, were fabricated, were insincere, or otherwise bogus. I told him that he too will have moral lapses in his life and make bad decisions, regardless of his religion.

"We'll see about that!" he said, with an idiotic air of moral supremacy.

He's all of 23 years old, and he actually believes he will be the perfect example of purity and moral consistency, the perfect guide to his children, and the perfect loving husband to his one-wife-for-life, all because he's "found Christ."

This guy isn't just deluded or naive -- he's stupid.

So, after nearly seven years of total silence toward his family, ignoring every important moment in their lives, he comes suddenly on the scene to rudely accused me of "being pompous and arrogant," for no other reason than that I have come to think religion is silly.

He picks the fight. Three times he "preaches" his message. He claims all he is doing is trying to understand my perspective. Every question he asks, he asks as an accusation. Before I have the chance to complete three words, he is shouting me down, refuting my poor answers, with nastily intoned, "You are so far gone -- you were NEVER a born again Christian."

Then again, all he's ever done since he could talk was argue from a foundation of ignorance, be as contrary as he could get away with, act rude and condescending whenever possible, and make me regret having the burden of an emotional bond with him.

He had the audacity to say I'd never done anything difficult in my life, that he's seen more of the world than I ever have, and implied his level of wisdom far exceeds my own.

I give up. I no longer want anything to do with this ungrateful shit.

Maybe one day he'll grow up, but I sincerely doubt it.

Good luck in your orgy of self-righteous criticism of others. Good luck in your mission to rudely alienate many of those to whom you should at the very least project an illusion of polite respect, just out of courtesy!

It's obvious to me that he totally lacks any respect for me. His derision was caustic, hurtful, and quite frankly pissed me off. So be it. I have no desire to torture anyone. And, I am not interested in attempting to live up to whatever arbitrary standard some ignorant asshat has decided I should follow. If a person cannot accept me as I am, why should I subject that person to my presence? Nothing positive can come of that kind of relationship. And in 23 years, nothing positive has ever come of this relationship, so why should I expect it to ever come? I don't I quit.

For the time being, that rude bastard is no longer a part of life.

I'm thinking now that religion doesn't necessarily make people into asses. But religion sure does give the big asses out there an excuse to grow even bigger.



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Two out of three ain't bad

Tonight was the last conversation I'll have with that ass.

He was never anything but a pain in the neck, and as he's grow older he's become more the epitome of a self-congratulating self-righteous son of a bitch.

He is, and will ever be, his mother's son.

I seriously doubt that he was ever a son of mine.

I am free.



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When someone tells you

That having children is a wonderful thing.

Just keep one thing in mind...

They grow up, decide you were an idiot, and then if you're really luck, they'll proceed to tell you how you aught to live your life.

If you're extremely fortunate, you'll have at least one child who becomes a deluded, self-righteous fundamentalist Christian, the kind who is sure beyond all doubt that you are a hell-bound sinner in need of his (or her) inspirational preaching to save your poor depraved soul.

My advise? Don't have kids. And if you fall to the call of nature and you do reproduce, don't take any of it too seriously. Caring too much is a complete waste of time and energy.

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If I were to tell you

That I'm happy, would you believe me?

If I said I was sad, would you care?

If I seemed to be grumpy, would you avoid me?



If I laughed, would you find me embarrassing?

If I raged, would you think me a fool?

If I was filled with lust, would you think me perverted?

If I snubbed your affections, would you think me an ass?

If I was happy-go-lucky, and always cheerful, would you find me dull?

If I never pretended and behaved with complete honesty, would you love me?


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Tattoo

It's probably silly, but I've been wanting to get a tattoo.

Why?

It's cool?

I want to do something wild and crazy, and getting a tattoo is probably as close as I'll ever get?



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