Yesterday, I and my girlfriend (who I am not at liberty to give a name due to personal privacy reasons) broke-up. Parted ways, as one might say.
It seemed to me as though it was a mutual, if not at least semi-mutual inevitable occurrence, (I say
'inevitable' because alot of the people who are close to me have directly stated that they saw this coming, and to be completely honest, so did I, and I think she did to.
I believed that it was going to happen eventually, and in this case, I guess it's better sooner than later, when it would have hurt much more.
It's only been a day, yes, but the dramatic change has been enough to make me feel quite sad, blank, and quite (although not completely, because I know I will get through this) hopeless.
I'll admit, I miss her. As is obvious, not everything about her I miss, or their would have been no reason to break-up in the first place.
I don't miss only her, I miss some lips to kiss, and a comforting, loving companion who would feel the most sympathy for me when I needed it, and to which I would attempt to return the favor, although one mistake I'll admit is that I wasn't always there for her.
I miss a hand to hold, and a person to love because as distant and ghostly as it may seem I do have alot of love to give, and as of yesterday, no one to give it to.
Trust me, I'm not a inherently dramatic person, although I can be if I'm writing a story or countering ones dramatic grief with dramatic upsides, and I know as well as anyone else that I'm going to get over her and everything that happened, and I'm going to take lessons from this relationship just as anyone else would who is or was leaving a relationship.
I know as well that this is a completely natural phase in a break-up, and should easily be expected with the end of a four-and-a-half month love, but I also know that writing it down helps alot.
Anyways, I'll explain how I feel to the best of my ability: I constantly feel alone, sort of drawn away from everyone else, upset, sometimes I feel like I may have made a significant mistake, while others I feel like it was necessary but still painful.
I feel cut-off from everyone else, like no one could really truly understand how I feel.
Some small things remind me of her and give me this short pang of sorrow.
I figure it'll take about a month before I completely get over this, and I know I will.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Friday, March 13, 2009
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Why the Satirical Jesus?
People ask me a lot why I make so many satirical references to Jesus: and that's a simple question to answer.
He's simply one of the most far fetched characters in history, it's hard not to mock what people believe he actually did.
I mean, the guy said he was the son of God, and then he let himself get whipped and hung on some random wooden cross, and to top it off, he died and came back to life a couple of days later, and then he walked on water to reach the other side, and as if that wasn't enough, he literally ascended into the heavens. Well, according to the Bible.
In reality? Well, first of all, he was probably just the first guy to be into the sexual hermaphroditic flagulation thing, and either one hell of a dellusional weirdo, or just a really good liar. As for the dying on the cross? They probably wanted him dead because his urges creeped the hell out of the Romans, but they decided they'd be kind and do it in a way he might enjoy.
When he came back to life, it's obvious he never died, he probably just finished off and decided he'd go rest in a little cave. That and he was probably hiding from the Romans who thought they had killed him.
As for the walking on water thing? I'm pretty sure whoever saw that was pretty damn stoned out of their mind, and when he ascended into the heavens, he must of spiked the punch or something with some sort of drug (probably an early version of Coca-Cola).
Ok, that isn't my actual outlook on the whole thing. That's just a purely satirical outlook I came up with on the spot.
If this blog ever becomes famous, I'm going to get alot of hate mail from not only fundamentalist Christians and Catholics, but also from casual Christians and Catholics demanding respect towards religion in general, when in fact I have no problem with religous people looking at Atheism in a satirical and crude perspective, as long as they're not being serious.
If they're being serious, they probably have no idea what they're talking about and live somewhere in the southern United States.
They also might be some of those 'Heartland of America' fundalemtalist Christians.
He's simply one of the most far fetched characters in history, it's hard not to mock what people believe he actually did.
I mean, the guy said he was the son of God, and then he let himself get whipped and hung on some random wooden cross, and to top it off, he died and came back to life a couple of days later, and then he walked on water to reach the other side, and as if that wasn't enough, he literally ascended into the heavens. Well, according to the Bible.
In reality? Well, first of all, he was probably just the first guy to be into the sexual hermaphroditic flagulation thing, and either one hell of a dellusional weirdo, or just a really good liar. As for the dying on the cross? They probably wanted him dead because his urges creeped the hell out of the Romans, but they decided they'd be kind and do it in a way he might enjoy.
When he came back to life, it's obvious he never died, he probably just finished off and decided he'd go rest in a little cave. That and he was probably hiding from the Romans who thought they had killed him.
As for the walking on water thing? I'm pretty sure whoever saw that was pretty damn stoned out of their mind, and when he ascended into the heavens, he must of spiked the punch or something with some sort of drug (probably an early version of Coca-Cola).
Ok, that isn't my actual outlook on the whole thing. That's just a purely satirical outlook I came up with on the spot.
If this blog ever becomes famous, I'm going to get alot of hate mail from not only fundamentalist Christians and Catholics, but also from casual Christians and Catholics demanding respect towards religion in general, when in fact I have no problem with religous people looking at Atheism in a satirical and crude perspective, as long as they're not being serious.
If they're being serious, they probably have no idea what they're talking about and live somewhere in the southern United States.
They also might be some of those 'Heartland of America' fundalemtalist Christians.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Don't Pretend To Be Jesus.
The image is a bit blurry, and cut off on the far right, so you'll have to actually click on it to see it clearly.
Monday, March 2, 2009
The Sum Of All Conflict
They fought in the trenches,
Surrounding Vimy Ridge.
They fell in the fields,
Lacking one last kiss.
They sunk on open waters,
Praying to their God.
They where shot dead in Saigon,
Fighting for a fraud.
They where blown to bits and pieces,
Found later in the Ardennes.
They fell to Fascist rifles,
In the name of Spain and all her friends.
They died for old MacArthur,
His ego could care less.
They died for all the Germans,
In Hitler's game of chess.
They died for King and Country,
In the name of their great Queen.
They died in ancient Baghdad,
Victim to an enemy unseen.
They fell from 60 stories,
On that dark and tragic day.
They sat in rehab centers,
With nothing left to say.
They sat at home with family,
No longer able to walk,
Hoping for that final day,
When the guns would drop,
Bullets would stop,
And all we would do,
Is just sit down,
And talk.
Surrounding Vimy Ridge.
They fell in the fields,
Lacking one last kiss.
They sunk on open waters,
Praying to their God.
They where shot dead in Saigon,
Fighting for a fraud.
They where blown to bits and pieces,
Found later in the Ardennes.
They fell to Fascist rifles,
In the name of Spain and all her friends.
They died for old MacArthur,
His ego could care less.
They died for all the Germans,
In Hitler's game of chess.
They died for King and Country,
In the name of their great Queen.
They died in ancient Baghdad,
Victim to an enemy unseen.
They fell from 60 stories,
On that dark and tragic day.
They sat in rehab centers,
With nothing left to say.
They sat at home with family,
No longer able to walk,
Hoping for that final day,
When the guns would drop,
Bullets would stop,
And all we would do,
Is just sit down,
And talk.
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