Blasphemous Thinking

      I absolutely despise the smell of sawdust. It makes my stomach churn as though I swallowed cleaning supplies. If it weren’t for the smell of sawdust, though, this place would be peaceful and serene. The plants around me are dead or dying but the green, golden yellow, tan and brown in comparison to the grey blue sky is rather breathtaking. To my right, there are houses that look straight out of a neighborhood near a port, which they are. They’re tan, grey, white and dusty blue. Behind the dusty blue house is the top of a gigantic cross that is about twenty feet high and a cream color. Right behind the cross are dark ominous looking clouds.

If I were religious, I’d say that God would be the shining beacon when the darkness is overbearing, but I’m not. Thus, I feel it is more a symbol that being in a religion makes life dark and depressing. I mean, think about it. On Earth, you are an imperfect being that is not worthy of the all-powerful and flawless god. All of your triumphs belong to God’s handiwork, while all of your mistakes belong to your handiwork. You live through life, which to some people is purgatory: you are on Earth and you prove yourself worthy of either Heaven or Hell.

      All there is for those who are religious to look forward to would be dying so that you can be with God again. To me, that makes life to me seem dark and horrible. You compare everything on Earth to the Paradise that you can only enter if you’ve been completely bored and miserable through life and die by natural causes. What kind of life is that?

      I prefer living a life where I can be proud of what I do, because it is I who has committed the laudable deed. I prefer living a life where what I look forward to is moments when I’m alive, rather than the lifetime hereafter.

      Two little girls behind me are playing games with their father. They’re about three or four years old. One of the girls wins, and thus becomes Simon. She begins to shout commands:

      “SHIMON STEAD TOUCH YOU… UH POCKET… SIMON SAYS TOUCH YOU WHOLE FAYSH!”

      Their little giggles fill the air like the most adorable sounding bells tinkling in joy. It just reminds me further of why I prefer to enjoy what I have now, rather than performing the tasks of a plan given to me by some invisible, demanding, egotistical creature in the sky, so as to join him in his so-called Paradise.

As John Lennon said,

“Imagine there's no Heaven

It's easy if you try

No hell below us

Above us only sky

Imagine all the people

Living for today”

      Sure this is extremely politically incorrect, but I’m not in politics, and it’s my opinions. I’m not trying to convert people to atheism, because I do believe there is some sort of spiritual existence beyond this physical one we thrive in now. I also am not trying to convert anyone at all, because I know how it feels for people around you to tell you that you will fail at life because of your beliefs. That’s what religious people tend to do. They feel they’re saving us from an afterlife of torture. Well, just because I feel I should save them from a Now-life of torture, doesn’t mean I’m going to nag them to stop going to church. It’s just as rude to tell me to go to church as it is for me to tell them to stop.

      Now, although I’m posting this publicly, and I’m sure there are those who strongly disagree with everything I’m saying, I’m just saying that you don’t have to agree, nor read this.

      I wasn’t always like this. I used to be Mormon. I just remember hating that I couldn’t see my friends on Sunday. I remember wanting to rather do hours of homework than go to church. At least one of them gave my mind something to do but wander and then drift to sleep. I hated listening to people giving testimonials about the moment that they found Jesus and God in their life, followed by bouts of crying. I hated knowing that no matter how hard I tried that I couldn’t find either of the two; no matter how hard I prayed, none of my prayers were answered.

      I finally came to the conclusion that life is supposed to be enjoyed. Your religion should be something that completes your life, and makes you feel happy. Mine did not. Sure, I didn’t quit on religion entirely; I researched into other religions, but they all felt the same, and most of them you had to be born into. So, I went through life without religion, but not without faith. I had faith in my family. I had faith in my true friends. I had faith in the moments of complete genuine happiness that I encountered, even though I didn’t go to church. I also had faith in myself, and that I could still be happy and thrive without relying on some mythical creature. To me, it was as silly as relying on the Easter Bunny to make my life what I wanted to. Maybe if I prayed to the Easter Bunny, I will go to some sort of a paradise when I die. Sure, you’d say, well it’s obviously been proven that the Easter Bunny doesn’t exist. Well, I don’t know about you, but every Easter morning, there are colorful eggs distributed healthily around my backyard, and they didn’t get there by osmosis.

      I also thought, why is it that polytheism is so ridiculous, and yet monotheism is not? To me, if you look at it, polytheism makes a lot more sense. It seems more possible that there is one god for every activity than one almighty magic man somehow doing everything at once. Logically it makes much more sense. Yet, we shun Zeus and Hera, saying they’re myths and legends. Well, to me God is just as mythical and ridiculous. He is just as invisible, and has more outlandish powers than the Greek and Roman gods, so why is it that He has more credibility than Apollo? Exactly.

      So I am just going to go through life day by day. If some powerful spiritual being feels like introducing themselves to me one day and let me know that they’re the ones who gave us this gorgeous planet to exist on, and has the ability to prove it, then great, I’ll believe in a religion then. Until such time, I love life, and haven’t been struck by lightning yet, so I shall continue believing my blasphemous ideals.