suicidal suicidal on New Years. Nooooo surprise there, happens every year.
BUUT this would only be the second occurence of such thoughts since I started antidepressants... DUN DUN DUN
Monday 31 December 2012
Surviving Atheism
What am I to do! I am so lonely, and oh so more lonely now I have no god!
I must admit what I think and what I must think is that there is nothing. There can only be nothing! Look at everything around us, there must be nothing! the tremendous mistakes and the infinite pain. I cry inside as I say these because I miss my God, my friend my protection, I feel so isolated and afar from the multitudes that believe but as much as it crushes me I must no longer believe!
I can not fully suspend, it is too difficult. I am weak. I am barely sane. How those first world intellectuals embrace nothingness (many are my friends, make up my demographic) as I sort of liberation! I do not know! I am crushed and hurt and feel that nothing is sacred and nothing is pure and nothing is good OR bad. The man I know is not good enough to decide which is which! The man I know is petty and selfish and childish, not evil but wholly inept. There is nothing. no feelings. everything that is will so soon be gone it is nothing at all. Oh I dream for a God to hold my hand. Or even just the promise of some sort of, non-arbitrariness, would be enough to comfort.
Or am I to surmise a malevolent God? A truly harsh and unrelenting God, Old Testament style?
But how to I reconcile the millenia of paganism and multitheism? the feelings of supernatural and superstition? is there nothing? is there just our ever expanding imagination? ARE WE SO MENTALLY REPRIEVED THAT IT HAS ALL BEEN MADE UP?
OH the nothingness it hurts and it eats away at me, it pits my soul with burning coals that I can not feel! I would rather cease than face this! If only I would cease!
I must admit what I think and what I must think is that there is nothing. There can only be nothing! Look at everything around us, there must be nothing! the tremendous mistakes and the infinite pain. I cry inside as I say these because I miss my God, my friend my protection, I feel so isolated and afar from the multitudes that believe but as much as it crushes me I must no longer believe!
I can not fully suspend, it is too difficult. I am weak. I am barely sane. How those first world intellectuals embrace nothingness (many are my friends, make up my demographic) as I sort of liberation! I do not know! I am crushed and hurt and feel that nothing is sacred and nothing is pure and nothing is good OR bad. The man I know is not good enough to decide which is which! The man I know is petty and selfish and childish, not evil but wholly inept. There is nothing. no feelings. everything that is will so soon be gone it is nothing at all. Oh I dream for a God to hold my hand. Or even just the promise of some sort of, non-arbitrariness, would be enough to comfort.
Or am I to surmise a malevolent God? A truly harsh and unrelenting God, Old Testament style?
But how to I reconcile the millenia of paganism and multitheism? the feelings of supernatural and superstition? is there nothing? is there just our ever expanding imagination? ARE WE SO MENTALLY REPRIEVED THAT IT HAS ALL BEEN MADE UP?
OH the nothingness it hurts and it eats away at me, it pits my soul with burning coals that I can not feel! I would rather cease than face this! If only I would cease!
Sunday 9 December 2012
Fear at bedtime
Absolute impending feeling of terror, terror of inevitable loneliness and ennui, despair at the promised unsatisfying spentness when I awake, the unsatisfying dreams where I wander and run but never reach, where my wishes appear in front of my in cruel crude distortions, mocking my desire.
I sleep by myself more alone than I could ever be. I will awake with the pain of my reality and the raw hurt of failed dreams. My nightly trepidation. Oh I wish I was exhausted and would collaspe instead. I wish my dreams would not taunt me. I wish I could tip out my mind and pick and choose what to refill it with, but it is filled with my terrors which infect any new memories I try to create.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. I need to calm down.
I sleep by myself more alone than I could ever be. I will awake with the pain of my reality and the raw hurt of failed dreams. My nightly trepidation. Oh I wish I was exhausted and would collaspe instead. I wish my dreams would not taunt me. I wish I could tip out my mind and pick and choose what to refill it with, but it is filled with my terrors which infect any new memories I try to create.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. I need to calm down.
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