Religious Babble

I believe I mentioned I'm Christian. I'm too lazy to actually check my posts and find out.

Why would I be Christian, you may ask, if I hate everything and everyone? Well, it's simple. According to Christian beliefs, if I accept Jesus as my savior, I get to go to heaven for what is, according to most people, going to be an extremely boring eternity. I'm okay with that, though.

Now here's the reason I made this post. Atheists. People that believe there's nobody there. There is a big difference between Atheism and Agnosticism. Agnostics believe there's somebody, they just don't know who the hell it is. I support Agnosticism, to an extent. Be picky. Research. Learn. It's important. Do it.

Do not, however, sit on the fence so long that you're dead and still haven't made a decision. That's stupid. Then you're in the same boat as the Atheists.

Ah, Atheists. How you fill me with anger. It's not even because you disagree with me. Here's an analogy I've come up with, to describe Atheists. I believe there's a God, and a heaven.

I take my money to the casino. I turn it into chips. I play the games. I could win. I could lose. I'm playing the odds.

Atheists believe there's nothing. That they just die and rot.

They take their money to the casino. They stand in the parking lot. They take their life savings, and they set it on fire, and they leave.

That's my problem with Atheists. It's not that they disagree. If it was because they disagreed, I would hate a whole lot of everyone a lot more. Muslims? Alright, I believe they're wrong. I believe beating the shit out of your wife, and crapping on your hand just isn't the goal here. But they could be right. They could be right. Maybe there's 72 beautiful virgins waiting for them when they die a glorious death.

But even if I think they're wrong? At least they're playing the game. My problem is, my worst case scenario-- that I'm just completely and utterly wrong, and will wind up rotting in the ground-- is an Atheist's BEST case scenario. According to an Atheist, no matter what, I win. Either I go to heaven, and giggle like a schoolgirl while I watch them burn, or I rot with them. So why even make the choice of believing in nothing?

If I had some readers, I'd love some comments here. I really am curious.

Mia's Journal, Entry 1

(( This is an in-character journal entry from my roleplaying character, Myrila DuCaine.))

Trying to get Florrie alone got me nowhere. Armod was ready to kill me. I don’t know what I’m thinking. I don’t know how I got out of it. All the words just… came out. Like they were ready, and I never even knew about them.

I’m not sure I want to know more about all this. Armod has a switch in him that just… turns him off. Do I really want more information? It doesn’t matter, though. I talked to Sabelas—the Paladin—again. He said he’d try to get more information for me. I don’t get it. Why would he be willing to help me in this? It doesn’t matter. Again. Whether I want the information or not, I need it. I can’t let this lie.

I wonder, idly, if I could take this the other direction. Seek out Dea’s enemies, instead of her friends. They would probably be more willing to give me information. Could I do it? I’d probably wind up dead. Thel’s angry at me. I can’t say I blame him. I wonder if this is going to be it for us.

Dating Sites

So I joined a dating site. Why, you might ask, would I do such a thing, having given up on relationships? Well, that factors into that decision. See, I joined this site... about six months ago. In that time, I have managed to reject every possible match. Now, why would I join a dating site and reject every person it could send me? I didn't choose to do that, although I now sign on just for that reason. A small part of me wants to see what happens when the website decides I'm undateable.

Here's what happened. I'd sign on, check out the matches the website suggested to me. She's a tramp; she has no concept of the english language; she does highly illegal drugs on a regular basis. Maybe I'm just too picky, I consider. So I lower my standards. I message the tramp. She never responds.

I try again the next day. I message another girl that doesn't quite meet my standards. Again, no response. Next day, I do the same thing. She responds! Well, apparently, she's looking for some musclebound moron that can't figure out how to tie his shoes. Wow. The next response I get, this time from a drug-addled idiot that dropped out of kindergarten, informs me that she already has a boyfriend. Why are you on a dating site.

Maybe it really is me. I'm not seeing how I can change that, though. I've actually had a thought, and I think I'm going to stick with it. Here's my theory: My soul mate died tragically in a car wreck, about ten or so years ago. Bad stuff happens to good people all the time, why not? And it would conveniently explain my complete inability to find a female I have even the slightest interest in, aside from the fact that she has breasts.

Well, let me take that back. There's one woman I have even a little interest in. She's part of why I've given up, though. I can't even remember the exact timeline anymore. Roughly four years straight, of on again, off again, constant mistakes and hate. And that's for a girl I'd claimed to love? If that's what love is going to mean for me, I should have dropped the whole idea a long, long time ago.

I'd tried to get ask out another girl, too. A girl who'd told me, over and over, that she wasn't ready for a relationship. Not quite. Not yet. And then, in a moment of weakness, or maybe confidence, I ask her out again. She thinks it's a good idea. We should totally go out. I might even manage to finally get some, she hints.

And then she drops the bomb on me. She has a boyfriend, she says. She's had him since a few days after the last time I asked her out, and she wasn't ready. We've been communicating through text message. I look at my phone. I delete every message I've ever sent her, every message she's ever sent me. I delete her number. I take the battery out of my phone, set phone and battery on my desk.

I consider my religion, for I am a Christian, hard as that may be to believe. I believe in God. I believe he has a plan. I know, for a fact, that I will love to watch these people burn. I may be the worst Christian ever.

Start With A Bang

It was a moment of pure, unadulterated hate, that started this whole idea. Several moments, actually. Several years of these moments. And now I'm going to share them with everyone. You'll never know who I am, that's really the beauty of it. "Who is this crazy bastard?" you might wonder. I could be your neighbor. I could be your son. I could be your father. I might even be your daughter, lying about her gender.

Let's kick off there. Lying. People lie all the time. It's a simple survival mechanism. And yet it makes me want to kill everything. I'm generally a trusting person. Despite being burned time and time again, I want to trust you.

So you lie to me. There's no reason for it. I'm not going to be mad at the truth. The truth hurts, but that's a pain I can accept. You lie to me, and I finally catch on, and the next time I look at you, the only thing I can see is what you might look like with your throat cut. A nice hole in your chest. I want to watch you bleed, because you cut me, and you just don't give a damn. So I choose not to give a damn either.

I've taken that choice on a number of things, lately. Just not giving a damn. I used to want a girlfriend. Maybe a wife someday. I used to. Then I got burned. And burned. And burned. I don't understand people, with that. They tell me it happens to everyone. They tell me it's a good idea to try again. Look, people. I stick my hand in a fire once, I know it hurts, I'm not going to do it again. But they convince me to try again.

"Stick your hand in the fire again!" they say. "Maybe it won't melt the flesh off your hand this time!

Bullshit. If I'm capable of nothing else, I'm capable of learning. I've learned women are whores. I've learned you can't trust them with anything. Not your wallet, not your heart, not your dog.

That's people in general, though, so I can't just blame the female half of the race. That's everyone. That's you.

I don't expect this blog to be read. I don't expect some hapless idiot to stumble across this text and decide I'm a genius. Everyone's had these thoughts, there's probably a million blogs out there that say this almost word for word.

With as much of a bang as I'd planned to start with, this feels almost lackluster. I'd planned to go right into my thoughts, my hate of everything, the logical processes that led me there. But really, I just don't care.