Television Is Not The Truth. Television’s A God-damned Amusement Park. Television Is A Circus, A Carnival,

11 Oct

On the matters of god

A pupil gave a rather brilliant devotions during our school asembly. So beautiful that it still stirs the subject upon leaving school: What do i do when all else fails. I say when as this life is absurd and the most random of things should be expected including absolute failure. MC being a christian of course had a heavily god-centred answer: look to god, leaviu\ng my atheist- self unsatifised and somehow angered by this.

I have lived off the premise that god is not good and therefore is undeserving of my life being held in his hands. But I’m struggling to believe that this answer hold any sense anymore. Rejecting god because of the interpretations of him that humans inflicted on him is somewhat unfair, illogical to judge one based off the biased opinion summoned by others.

And is it worth it? Teh question of hope is completely defeated as the most logical answer is that there is no inherit meaning in life, existentialism. Leaving me hopeless.

How unsatisfied i am with the solution to my despair being indifference as i am very naturally inclined to the ideas that life has its good and bad. Well of course this truth can be attributed to the dogmatic brain that picks and drops and eventually results in a moral compass. Yes it is true that life is indifferent towards our perceptions of it but that is the truth that the universe holds and i am a mere fraction of it.

I no longer believe i am capable of being and doing all. I want a separate being to exist from me that can.

I may need God

Back tracking to the question of hope in terms of failure, i have grown fond of the absurdist belief. Live life happily or do not live at all. I have always thought this philosophy was rather extreme as it less no room for grey, no opportunity to question similar to many concepts of Christianity. Extremism. But by adopting this belief i have found myself on either end - extreme happiness and despair.

do it scared do it weird do it alone. holy trinity

Once again I feel like the world is craving in on me. The memory of someone that passed haunts me. What could I have done to make his short life more pleasing, he died feeling distaste for me, how pathetic I am for being with one of his friends.

And what makes this even sadder is that I’ve made my grief all about me. It’s like this disgusting self centred attitude makes path to my selfishness. It scares me.

dont look back in anger

Don’t look back in anger they say, but I’ll look back in rage. I can never let things go without a fight, you can say I beat a dead horse until it’s back to life. Knowing deep down I can’t go back no matter how hard I fight fuels me with an indescribable amount of fury, bashing the door psychotically pleading to let me go back in time.

In the moment it’s euphoric, it feels like forever swearing that change will never happen to me things will stay the same forever. Even when I know there’s a deadline. Even when I know there’s a return flight. 

Don’t look back in anger, can I look back in delusion? Live with my eyes closed so I can pretend nothing has changed, just live inside my memory. My neck is so tired from looking back in hindsight, please let this door open, please let me go back. How can I not be angry when I’m haunted by ghosts of people that are still alive, there’s a cinema behind my eyes replaying their faces, replaying my memories. 

Time you are a cruel, cruel person for never allowing us to go back, I always find myself sobbing at your feet like a toddler. But you’re not a mother and you won’t comfort me. So the ache sits in my stomach, I’m so angry. 

It starts as a harmless poke to my shoulder. Never a serious matter for when I turn to question you, you respond with a bright smile and remind me that it is all friendly.

Your fingerprint begins to stain my shoulders and I turn to inquire your motivations. Quickly I am shut it down cause it’s nothing serious, just a nudge.

Times pass and the skin that you torment is bruising, the pain pulsates although out my body.

Your hand is tainted crimson with my ooze but still you address me with a smile, after all it’s just a nudge.

You burry your way through my skin and uncover the most fragile parts of my being. The foundation that I am built on is disrupted by your omnipotent presence that chips away at me.

I garner up the courage to question your antics as my bones begin to splinter.

But there is no body to restore me, I am spoilt beyond recovery.

𝕋𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥

Robert Pattinson as ᴇᴅᴡᴀʀᴅ ᴄᴜʟʟᴇɴ × Kristen Stewart as ʙᴇʟʟᴀ ꜱᴡᴀɴ (dir. Catherine Hardwicke • 2008)

John Ogilby, The Fables of Aesop, 1665

Wish I was a boy