Dear God (specifically the God of the Christians),
As my darling girlfriend has said, you are one of the most genuinely unpleasant characters in all of written fiction. You're followers are some of the most hypocritical and some of the most foul individuals I've ever had the displeasure of meeting. Not to mention the ones who are just plain batshit insane.
People murder in your name, you know. They use you as a convenient excuse for all their petty bullshit. They hide their actions behind your book. It's a funny thing really, because more than half of them have never read the thing all the way through.
I used to believe in you, you know. I wanted to be a minister. I used to take my bible out and I would preach to the trees. However, a woman shall not have dominion over man. I still have more of your word memorized than I would like (i.e. Matthew 4:4). At least it comes in handy when I'm pointing out the hypocrisy of your followers.
I used to be afraid of going to Hell. And I felt such massive guilt for my attraction to women and my burgeoning sexual affinities. Yes, Lord, I have sinned and fallen far short of the glory of you. That used to bother me. Though, to be brutally honest, I tried to be bothered by it more than I actually was. I haven't been "on fire" for you in a long time.
Mom says I need to forgive you and start talking to you again. She says you are good. I don't believe it. I don't believe in you at all any more.
Previously to this moment I used to believe that you existed in some fashion or other. Recent events however have made think otherwise. Though there are still good things that happen, making me wonder if you are behind it trying to lure me back. Like Obama winning the election. That made me wonder if you weren't real after all. Because I cried out louder than I ever have that he would win. To anything out there. Of course, if that is true, mayhaps it was Krishna or Ra answering my prayers.
Mom says I need to talk to you. She encouraged my desire to be Muslim because she believes you and Allah are the same being. Which I also agree with, for the most part. She tells me that I need to pour my heart out to you. I tell her that I don't believe in you. She refuses to believe in my disbelief. I suppose she has a right to that.
I have never felt more like an atheist than I do now. And I'm not sure if that is a good or bad thing. But I am dried up. I have felt this before. I know believing in you won't make a difference. It is just the way of things. I hate you, but I want to believe in you. Why is that?
Why do I care?
Because the little girl I was survived Hell and wants to believe it was for a reason. I want to believe I have come this far for a purpose and not because you enjoyed toying with me or because you didn't exist at all. I want to believe it was all for a better world. When in reality, I think it was because the world is sick. And I wish I could be like the girl in my favorite series and destroy the swollen and rotting portions of this world, save it from itself. I can't. I can't save the world. And you have left me with this gaping hole where my heart should be.
I tried to give it to you. It wasn't good enough. I wasn't good enough. I tried to be perfect. I couldn't shake the desire to be a man. The longing to be with a woman sexually. I couldn't deny those feelings and I couldn't deny the love I had for things that were not of "you." Maybe I have been led astray. Maybe I have been wrong. But I tried. I tried, God. I tried to be a good and faithful servant. And I give up. I'm tired of fighting who I am because I am scared of some being that may or may not exist.
If you can't love me for who I am, for who YOU created me to be, how will I ever survive?
As my darling girlfriend has said, you are one of the most genuinely unpleasant characters in all of written fiction. You're followers are some of the most hypocritical and some of the most foul individuals I've ever had the displeasure of meeting. Not to mention the ones who are just plain batshit insane.
People murder in your name, you know. They use you as a convenient excuse for all their petty bullshit. They hide their actions behind your book. It's a funny thing really, because more than half of them have never read the thing all the way through.
I used to believe in you, you know. I wanted to be a minister. I used to take my bible out and I would preach to the trees. However, a woman shall not have dominion over man. I still have more of your word memorized than I would like (i.e. Matthew 4:4). At least it comes in handy when I'm pointing out the hypocrisy of your followers.
I used to be afraid of going to Hell. And I felt such massive guilt for my attraction to women and my burgeoning sexual affinities. Yes, Lord, I have sinned and fallen far short of the glory of you. That used to bother me. Though, to be brutally honest, I tried to be bothered by it more than I actually was. I haven't been "on fire" for you in a long time.
Mom says I need to forgive you and start talking to you again. She says you are good. I don't believe it. I don't believe in you at all any more.
Previously to this moment I used to believe that you existed in some fashion or other. Recent events however have made think otherwise. Though there are still good things that happen, making me wonder if you are behind it trying to lure me back. Like Obama winning the election. That made me wonder if you weren't real after all. Because I cried out louder than I ever have that he would win. To anything out there. Of course, if that is true, mayhaps it was Krishna or Ra answering my prayers.
Mom says I need to talk to you. She encouraged my desire to be Muslim because she believes you and Allah are the same being. Which I also agree with, for the most part. She tells me that I need to pour my heart out to you. I tell her that I don't believe in you. She refuses to believe in my disbelief. I suppose she has a right to that.
I have never felt more like an atheist than I do now. And I'm not sure if that is a good or bad thing. But I am dried up. I have felt this before. I know believing in you won't make a difference. It is just the way of things. I hate you, but I want to believe in you. Why is that?
Why do I care?
Because the little girl I was survived Hell and wants to believe it was for a reason. I want to believe I have come this far for a purpose and not because you enjoyed toying with me or because you didn't exist at all. I want to believe it was all for a better world. When in reality, I think it was because the world is sick. And I wish I could be like the girl in my favorite series and destroy the swollen and rotting portions of this world, save it from itself. I can't. I can't save the world. And you have left me with this gaping hole where my heart should be.
I tried to give it to you. It wasn't good enough. I wasn't good enough. I tried to be perfect. I couldn't shake the desire to be a man. The longing to be with a woman sexually. I couldn't deny those feelings and I couldn't deny the love I had for things that were not of "you." Maybe I have been led astray. Maybe I have been wrong. But I tried. I tried, God. I tried to be a good and faithful servant. And I give up. I'm tired of fighting who I am because I am scared of some being that may or may not exist.
If you can't love me for who I am, for who YOU created me to be, how will I ever survive?
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