themuseherself

This WordPress.com site is the cat’s pajamas

Month: June, 2012

The God Delusion…or Confirmation…or…?

I am openly agnostic. A Diest. Whatever you want to label me as. I don’t believe the bible is anything other than a bunch of fictional stories written by men to keep others in check and women weak. And I certainly don’t believe in Jesus.

I tend to look at Jesus and religion the same way I do drinking or drugs. As a crutch for the weak to get one through the day. Some take a nip. Some a pill. Some do Jesus.

I was christened and raised a Methodist. I come from a long line of obedient believers. Gram Catholic. Poppy was Lutheran. Great Gram was a German Jew. They all believed. I went to bible school, sang in the choir and attended Sunday school.

I have NEVER believed what I read was right. Not even when I was a kid. I found the bible to be conflicting, confusing…and eventually ridiculous. I get that the Adam and Eve story is really about human nature. Tell people what they CANT have and it makes them want it so much more. OK, fair enough. But far too many take it literally. Noah really got 2 of every animal on an ark…and half of them didn’t eat each other? REALLY? An eye for an eye or turn the other cheek? What should I do? Delilah was stronger simply for cutting Sampson’s hair? And how come more men don’t have long hair these days? I found rape, all women were repressed or EVIL, abuse, fratricide, murder, fantasy. If you truly read it, you will too. Not many people read the ENTIRE bible. If you do, you will not believe it either. Not if you own common sense.

But I’ve always believed in God. Not a “man in the sky” god, but a spirit…or just something greater than we are. Maybe.  After all, there HAS to be something better than WE are, doesn’t there? We can’t even get through a toll booth without fucking shit up.

But the idea of Jesus is…retarded. Really? The son of god, who IS god? Who died for our sins and came back? I truly don’t get it…and literally scoff every time I read that on some goobers car window decal. “Douche bags” I think.

But this year, I have learned something. Something important. Here it is:

Some people need Jesus.

Badly.

With cancer, my mom has been frightened. She is dying. No doctor can calm her. No nurse can take her fears away. But the idea of a Jesus, can…and does. She has Jesus all over the house. At first I scoffed. Rolled my eyes. Humored her. Then, I realized that these pictures/statues do more for her mentally than anyone can. More than I can.

So I have learned to back off and respect that. Some people have security blankets. Some have vodka. Others have Jesus.

I still think it’s complete bullshit…but I can respect others need for bullshit in their lives. After all…we all have SOME kind of bullshit in our lives. What difference does it really make which kind it is?

I DO know this: Our behavior matters more than our beliefs.

Fuck Cancer.

It’s a terrible feeling when someone you love so much is hurting…and there isn’t FUCK ALL you can do about it. I know Mom is going to diet. We all do. But MOM doesn’t quite know that Mom is going to die…at least, until the doctor flat out told her yesterday. The pain in her chest is the cancer growing bigger and bigger. She needs to be on oxygen all the time. They are going to put her on morphine for “pain management”. These things pretty much signal the beginning of the end. I know this.

But I don’t think she did. Mom has Asperbergers. She has never really gotten the total meaning of what “terminal stage four cancer” truly means. 

Now, she is just…gutted. Sad. Scared. Hopeless. Utterly panicked. 

And even though I saw it coming, nothing prepares you for trying to help someone you love with all your heart come to terms with it. I can’t take the hurt away from her. I can’t take her pain away.

She says over and over again: “I’m not ready to go. I don’t want to leave yet.”

There is NOTHING I can do to help her situation, and this is quite literally killing me. I cry all the time. For her this time, as much as myself now.

I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to face a birthday where no one remembers to send me a card. I don’t want her to suffer any more. I don’t want her to be in pain, or scared.

I want her to have peace, and she simply cannot.

Fuck cancer. 

The Muse…

“I wrote a lengthy story a warrior woman who goes undercover into a harem to rescue an abducted princess. I always envisioned the main character to look exactly like you. I appreciate your offer to read it but I don’t want to give you homework (especially since it’s TEN CHAPTERS LONG.) A number of people have said I should try to get it published. 

I appreciate you unknowingly being my writing muse.”

 

Oh, goody. Another satisfied & inspired customer. I truly wish I could do THIS for myself. 

Someone asked m…

Someone asked me out tonight. I like that he had the balls to do that, even though he was on the “other side of the fence” at the convention. He’s a rugby player who competes in CrossFit. Tall…with clear blue slanted “Asian” eyes, a stunningly handsome face & quick, killer smile. Very unique looking. The kind of face you never saw before and will never see again. Made me wonder if he was a bright as he is beautiful.  Most athletes and good-looking people are too disappointingly often NOT intelligent, worldly or aware.

I can’t imagine dating again. What a mess I’d bring to the table.

Still…it’s nice to be asked.