Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Edible Bones

God comes in so many guises. It's difficult to discern the imitators from the real thing. Especially since you know, there is no actual god.

It's sad. So very sad. That human beings are such a weak and helpless animal. That they need a magic man in the sky to make their life worth living. Not that I can find a reason to live otherwise. But I am willing to admit, there isn't one. Am resolved to the cold, hard fact, that well, we're nothing more than sardines. Tightly packed inside this tin foil container we call Earth. Not very tasty, but doomed to be devoured nonetheless.

Heaven is the same as any fairy tales. Little girls and their sordid dreams of being princesses. Something left over from when the colonies were still under the rule of England.

I'm fine with life having no meaning. That's all it's ever had. Those who aren't need to seriously examine themselves. Magic men with long beards living in the clouds are not the answer.

the world is a cold, hard place to live. It's bright and fierce and crass. Religions attempt to soften that stick. But beaten with it you'll still be. Whether you view it as a mercy or a punishment is up to you.

but god, well, even if he did exist. to satisfy your need for an eternal father figure. well, even if he were real, i doubt he'd love you any better than the father the earth has provided.

religion loves to tell you how special you are. that's how it's lasted all these years. making the insignificant feel important. that god is listening. but the reality is, even is there were a god, which there isn't. but even if there were, he'd have better things to do.

the fact is you don't really matter. and you're not special.

you're just one in a long array of insects. stranded on a leaf that's doomed to wither.

2 comments:

  1. Hm … maybe life doesn't have any meaning,
    but whose to say we can't give it one.

    We're utterly clueless,
    but a good meal feels good on a hungry stomach,
    and love though rare, well, now that is something …
    who knows what anyone means
    when they talk about God …
    but whatever may be the case
    the idea life has no meaning
    is as absurd as the idea it has one definite one …

    The poet searches
    she stabs at the beast
    and she doesn't give up.

    Blah … I don't know anything.

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  2. good points. very interesting. i wish i could share in your optimism.

    ReplyDelete