Seeking Spiritual Enlightenment

I’m embarrassed to admit that I’m terribly Spiritually Provincial and Uncosmopolitan, since I was never Force-Exposed to anything other than Christianity. Please keep that in mind if you actually read this.

I’ve now spent thousands of years on this planet – most as Christian, many as Confused; all Conflicted. Guess which Me knows The Wholehearted Truth?

It’s Anyone’s Guess.

But here’s the thing I like about Jesus, at least the one born in Israel, Judah, or Palestine [it’s confusing!] approximately 2000 years ago:

You can’t argue he was a True Believer.

I don’t know about the other Big Dudes – Mohammed, The Buddha, Confucius, L. Ron Hubbard, and Mary Baker Eddy – but were any of them CRUCIFIED for Their Whacked-Out Beliefs At The Time? I’m pretty sure LRH and Mary Baker Eddy weren’t, though if HE had to see a psychiatrist and SHE had to see a doctor first, I can guarantee NEITHER was crucified!

At least in this lifetime. Oh damn, is this going to get me labeled a “Suppressive Person”? I don’t need the Public Excoriation at the moment. And I can’t afford to believe anything too expensive!

Anyway, I honestly don’t know about the other Big Religions, and I’d rather ask You than Siri. You know how literal she can be, and I don’t have the patience to word The Question in Sirian.

PS. I momentarily considered Jim Jones and David Koresh, but decided if you take Unwilling Sacrifices out with you, you don’t qualify for “True Believer” status.

Though I’m pretty sure it’s okay to release a few Thetans first.

(Image courtesy of @eliapelle)

BILE RISING

Thoughts of Sweetness make me feel Sick to My Stomach, Pained in My Heart, and Intolerably Dark today.

This combination is only Enhanced by the flood of Bile and Hatred currently Rising,

Resulting in these pesky digestion sounds I hear.

Though of course I haven’t eaten all day! I’m always forgetting to eat. My Empty Stomach makes it even Sicker.

Thank Goodness!

Rest Assured: I won’t be Happy until You’re Half as Miserable as I Am.

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Welcome to My Head once I perfected a “Thought-Stopping” Exercise I learned last year. I finally realized how/why I got Cancer twice by aged 45. And perhaps all that pain medicine was numbing more than physical pain?

GASP OF AIR

Death claims all the Victory
In this life given to me.
It owns the very parts of Me
Which mingled with One’s chemistry
To build a brand new entity,
Just to have him ripped from me.

Who was the enemy?
My own womb, specifically
Betrayed us all, ejecting
This tiny piece of Humanity.
Scrap to you? Not to me.

I still ache longingly
To nurse and cradle this piece to me.
Twenty years and constant suffering,
More Death than Life if you ask me
Since his and fellow siblings’ lives
Were deemed by Someone “Not to Be.”
And Mother never made of me.

What rules for such a Tragedy?
No One knew, apparently.
All Baby Bumps avoided me,
As if my full-term “inability To carry”
An unspeakable disease
Which could be passed contagiously.

Alone, I bear their Memories;
Always My Responsibility.
Now I’ve become too fatigued
To honor them effectively;
They only Live in Memory.

I’m not too proud to beg your sympathy.
I’ll even make this plea upon my knees:
Would you be willing, Momentarily,
To hold my children in YOUR hearts
So I can breathe?

God as a Parent

Sometimes I feel like the God of the Bible is one of THOSE parents. You know them. Every time there’s something you desperately want or want to do, their immediate answer is a swift “No.” They don’t even consider the details. When you ask why not, they reply with an annoying “Because I said so!”

Examples:

•Can I have sex with this cute guy? No. Why? Because I said so.
•Can I have sex with myself then? No. Why? Because I said so.
•Can I at least THINK about sex? No…said so.
•What about lobster for dinner? Nope. Same reason.
•A single shrimp? [Eye roll]

Every parent uses that answer sometimes and deservedly so. But frankly, it’s a cop out for when there isn’t time for a more considered response. My biggest concern is for the families where parenting has been distilled down to this exchange, repeated over and over again. They often produce young people who either 1) quit inquiring or 2) quit thinking for themselves.

I should know.

A Terrible Thing

You know that thing that drives you,
that gives you purpose,
that causes you to get back on the damned horse,
no matter how hard your life gets?

Well…
It’s a terrible thing to lose.

Journal, 6/20; The Greatest Estrangement

I transcribed this verbatim from a journal I just discovered. I wrote these two entries a little over a year before I started my blog here. I think this older writing proves I’ve gained much ground in the areas of freedom, peace, and joy. I’m still confused, but believe all will be revealed…

6/27/20

Dear God:

I have to admit I don’t understand you anymore. I used to think I did, but I totally don’t anymore. What I can’t wrap myself around is why – when I loved you so much – you’d allow me to get so broken, ruined, and hopeless.

Where WERE you? And why didn’t you step in when everything in my life fell apart [over and over and over again]?

I know I have disappointed you. That I’m stuck in a prison I partially made. But I didn’t make it entirely on my own. If anyone knows this, it’s you. But now that I’m here, you’re going to judge me when I die and say I gave up on You and didn’t use the gifts you gave me?

Let me point out: I think it was you that left me first. I’m telling you how I really feel because you can take it and I obviously can’t. I can’t “take” much of anything anymore. The only thing I feel is pain. Just pain and only pain. 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

I am the walking dead. No joy, no laughter, no hope, no faith, no anything. Certainly no charismatic “fruits of the spirit.” I’m dry and hollow from the inside out.

So does this mean I’m not a “real” Christian? Because it doesn’t feel like I’m one of your Chosen. Chosen by the devil for torture and suffering, maybe. But surely not chosen for “life and life abundant!”

6/30/20

I can’t get through more than 3 sentences of my letter from Saturday without feeling cowed. I’m hanging my head in shame. You are holy and sacred and righteous and true and you don’t deserve my accusations.

I guess I just really need to FEEL your love – and it seems I only feel pain. I realize I was the one who turned away [because you say it was me], but it’s getting hard to turn back. And I miss you! So very much! But I need to know the TRUE YOU and not someone’s interpretation of you. I know you say your word is all we need, but it can be vexing to read. It makes me feel that if I don’t understand parts of it, I’m not really yours.

These reformed theologians have me doubting my salvation every moment of every day. Do you still love me? Did you ever? Will you not choose me if I’m not written in your book of life? Even though you’ve always known me, would you abandon me over a technicality?

It doesn’t matter much because I can’t imagine a hell much worse than my life as it now is. I’m sure if I’m to spend eternity tortured by demons, it will be much worse, though. I’m sure I’ll be screaming in agony for all of eternity future.

The thing is: I don’t understand why you’d let anyone do that to me.

I know I’m selfish and ugly and evil, but I thought you saw my beauty? Was I wrong all this time? Or did you un-see it one day?

I’ve served you, repressed myself, lived in fear, and felt like a disappointment to you my whole life, and in response? Are you really going to allow my already-shredded soul to be ripped to shreds all over again, every day for forever?

The tears, the prayers

The tears?

The ones on my knees, when I was pleading with you to let the baby stay?

The prayers?

The relentless, always-in-pursuit-but-unable-to-escape guilt?

The kind I couldn’t exorcise, no matter how I tried?

The feeling like less than a slug for decades?

I think it was “dirty menstrual rags” you equated my beauty to?

The believing I had only to speak the words and have the faith of a child to make my dreams come to pass?

The dreams which never, EVER came to pass?

Even when I was a child (therefore having the “faith of a child”)?

If it was in your sovereign will for me?

Without ever telling me what your sovereign will for me was in the first place?

Well, it never did me an ounce of good.

So, thanks for that kindness, too.

If you’d been a plain old debased human, I would’ve cut you off years ago.

Then again, I happen to have a fondness for brokenness.

I don’t get all mad and wrathful trying to beat the sin out of the sinners you so brilliantly and beautifully designed.

So: your goodness and mercy never cease to let me down.

If you’re as omniscient as you claim, I’ll assume you picked up on the sarcasm in my last sentence.

If not: go ahead and insert dark, jaded, broken-down, angry, disappointed, soul-crushed sarcasm all throughout the fabric of my last 3 posts.

It’s intentional.

I think it’s obvious, but:

I’m pretty sure, if you even do exist, you stopped caring about what we humans had to say centuries ago.

We haven’t killed enough people in your name lately, so I guess you moved on to angrier people.

That was your mistake.

Because I’m probably the Angriest Bitch you’ll come across for a long time.

In fact, I’m so angry, if you had the guts to face me:

I’d probably kill you myself.

If you weren’t already dead.

[At least to me]

And why…

And why…

In your Absolute Sovereignty,

Did you allow us NO sovereignty to help allay the constant suffering which marks the human condition?

While subsequently labeling any “human pleasures” which allay that suffering as

SIN-full and EVIL?

I played by your rules my Whole Fucking Life.

And mostly?

I’m just mad about all the years I wasted.

In fact, I’m:

Really fucking pissed off.





WTF??

Why in Heaven’s Name did you decide to make us human if you’re going to consign us to ten eternities in hell for simply being human?

The logic evades me. But I’m a thorough louse for even asking. Right? I know: more shame on me.

THE BEST LOVER

I’m a sucker for a great big bloody love story, so that’s the primary reason why I am a Christian. They just don’t make better love stories than that, and I should know.


The problem is – and will always be – that I am a thoroughly self-obsessed, fully debauched sinner who is too proud and ignorant to listen to a god-damn word He says.


christianityquotes #imtoobroken #imasinner #religions #lovestories #philosophy

With The Back of My Hand:

Or, “A Hannibal Kind of Lust”

—————————

I love you so much that

I’d like to Eat You Alive.

And then wipe your blood off of my mouth

with the back of my hand

that still has

chunks of your hair and scalp

threaded through my fingers.

And later,

after I burp up your digestive juices,

I’ll sleep more soundly

than I ever have before.

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Photo credit: Catalin Pop. Thank you!

Man’s Description of The Divine & the Verbal Ubiquity of “Literally”

Man saying he’ll only believe in a Supreme, All-Powerful Force once he has human-approved, scientifically robust evidence of His Divine existence is like a slug defending his critical analysis of Shakespeare’s views on immortality using slug trails only. It’s absurd on so many levels, I hope they don’t require written elaboration.

The above is a SIMILE

As a slug defends his critical analysis of Shakespeare’s views on immortality using slug trails, so man shakes his fist at the Cosmos and demands human-approved, human-defined evidence of a Supreme Divinity in order to believe in its existence.

The above is still a SIMILE

The Man who demands evidence of the Divine in small, digestible terms he can understand is a slug convinced he can describe Shakespeare’s views on immortality using slug trails.

The above is a METAPHOR

A man who literally demands evidence that God literally exists is like a slug literally thinking it can imagine conceptual themes in literature, like Shakespeare’s views on immortality and then literally describing them using slug trails alone. Like…literally.

I don’t know what the above statement is an example of other than how we leech every ounce of meaning from a word once it goes “viral.” I took a test in high school that asked the following question: “What is the opposite of literal language?” The answer was “metaphorical language.” I am not arguing the Strunk & White correctness of what we learned. I AM bemoaning the fact I can’t make it through a 24-hour-period without hearing the word “literally” proceed forth from at least 8 separate sets of human lips.

And that just bugs me in an intolerant way I neither like nor understand. Even though I realize it’s like any other go-to, overused term that Society at Large latches onto, only to discard 20 years later from Our Collective English Lexicon..

So, please forgive me, Millennials, Genexers, and All Other Souls from Every Living Generation:

It’s not as if I don’t have more far important things to worry about than the words that trickle out of your mouths. All day, every day, 25 hours OF that day.

I warned y’all “Black & White Thinking” Jennifer can get really bitchy and opinionated when it comes to All Things Trivial and Inconsequential. And literally All Things Significant.

But damn! Could you maybe just start THINKING about how you use this word?

Because it’s literally starting to affect my blood pressure. Honestly. Like, literally. I shit you not. Literally [but not “literally”].

#grammatocrats, #etymology, #lexicology, #morphology, #semantics

Lucifer Rising

I’m starting to get worried.

Most people have a mid-life crisis when they realize they’re eventually going to die. For me, it’s realizing I might actually live that’s throwing me for a loop.

It’s like I finally decided: WTH, I’m here, I might as well have some fun! But the way it’s showing up is very confusing and unfamiliar to me. Let me link my advocate video below for you, my beloved subscribers. Just watch this nice and sweet lady talk.

You can’t help but like her, right? She’s very “relatable” as they say. I hate her. She’s a judgmental bitch, but y’all still don’t believe me.

The problem is that the more and more I expose her, the darker what’s left seems to be getting.

Like I said, I think it’s about having some fun for a change, but I’m not sure that’s it. Instead, it might be about my questioning [and subsequent jettisoning] of the Rules I Have Lived by My Entire Life.

With expulsion of said rules, I’m no longer troubled by those pesky “trials of conscience” and “ethical dilemmas.”

No, I’m just sitting here with my dirty mind and the same determination I’ve used to stay alive the last 54 years. Which has not been insubstantial, let me assure you! We are talking about a Determination the likes of which you might not have witnessed up close and personal before.

So how did I go from an Ingenue to a Succubus in such a short period of time? How did I go from being so nice and sweet to wanting to mercilessly use you for my own selfish purposes and then break your shriveled little heart into a million tiny pieces? While I sit back and laugh hysterically…

Because let’s not forget: you didn’t lose any sleep over the tears you caused me.

Yet somehow it’s not pretty on ME, is it?

Me, a public figure and a viral social media sensation. Should I curb my recent appetites to maintain my reputation so that I can continue to advocate for other breast cancer survivors without a sullied path of discarded lovers to minimize my message?

Hell no! I told you I was no longer troubled by ethical dilemmas! That includes how many tears you’ll shed this time.

P.S. It’s 4 days later, and I haven’t been able to sleep since posting this. Mostly because I know I threatened to break the Cardinal and ONLY rule on Jennifurrville, and that’s to NEVER deliberately break another person’s heart. That’s akin to murder in my opinion, and I’m many things, but I’m not a murderer. Will you forgive me?

More Questions for My Latest Suitor, to be revised on an ongoing basis

1. Why did you go and make us flawed, pathetic humans if you were going to punish us for being flawed, pathetic humans? You say you gave us freedom of choice so we could willingly choose to obey you.

I’m sorry, but what were you thinking? Do you not think that over the course of millennia, one of us ‘Yay-hoos’ down here would think: “Let me try this anyway?” Were you lying in wait for ONE of us to break a rule so you could punish ALL of us? That’s ONE part I’ve never understood.

2. And how can you guarantee it won’t happen again after Armageddon goes down and Heaven’s Favorites are where they’re supposed to be? Will they be the temptation-less automatons who so bugged you during the design phase, but who are now somehow perfect?

You get back to me with the answers to 1 and 2, and I’ll meet You for a conversation.

Oh, and I don’t intend on quitting sinning, either. Nope, while I’m still here, I’ll get my dopamine and serotonin where I can (thank you very much). Metaphorically: Apples are good for the digestion.

Disclaimer: if you weren’t carved into a “Believer” from birth, you might not understand this weird-ass conversation we’re having. You probably were required to memorize scripture from old and new testaments alike as both young child and adult to recognize the “code.”

My Newest Suitor, cont.

Oh the conversation continued alright. Not because of miracles (wait, except for that big one last week I completely forgot about until write now)…I was going to say “not because of miracles but because the guy refuses to quit stalking me…in my HEAD!”

Do you know the way an iPhone 12 will start to play from your APPLE MUSIC collection when you aren’t listening to Google for a nanosecond (or some other weird Apple shit like that)? Well, as soon as I publish that last post and go back to what I’m doing, Apple Music starts playing from the old limited playlists in my Pre-Spotify Period and he sandwiches “Better is One Day in Your Courts” next to Brothers Osborne’s “Let Me Love the Lonely Out of You.”

I say: that’s not very subtle, dude. And you KNOW that younger one is gay. You know how you ABHOR all that shit! I think it’s very hypocritical of you to choose it. Not that I’m gay of course, but I did just confess to empathizing with Lucifer, so I can imagine I’m not looking radiantly beautiful right now. Plus, how would you like to be hated just because of your internal feelings?

So I figure out how to STOP APPLE MUSIC and switch back to Spotify. It immediately goes to this song I love called “She Fucking Hates Me” from 2002. But I can’t listen to it for some crazy reason. I know it’s sappy, but I actually switch to my Love Songs playlist. So I entered willingly. But there ARE some extreme songs in there! Why does the first one have to be “I Have Loved You For a Thousand Years”?

Yesterday I was thinking that I needed a caveman in my romantic life: one whose signals I can’t misinterpret. Is he trying to prove his omniscience here? Because let’s get one thing straight: I have NEVER DOUBTED YOUR OMNISCIENCE. What I have DOUBTED is your love and concern for me at all, despite all the crying and weeping other people report feeling when overcome by your “great big majestic love” or something similar. Let’s face it, you have dealt me some serious blows, man. I mean: let’s not bullshit each other, ok? Can we just go for the jugular here? Better yet: read my FUCKING BLOG‼️

You have a lot to explain to me before I will EVER trust you again.

P.S. Please stop the downloads of compassion for my father. I don’t think I can handle another one. It breaks me into a million tiny pieces and you’ll be stuck knowing it was all your fault.

P.P.S. I’m starting to realize why you ripped every baby out of my womb, sparing me no bloodshed. It’s because you knew the day I realized I’d done the same things to THEM that the father you gave me did to ME, I wouldn’t be able to handle it. Am I supposed to be grateful?

My Newest Suitor

I started up a conversation with God again yesterday. We’ve re-established a loose connection, but it’s by NO MEANS been anything regular. Yesterday, I feel like The Man had the GALL to suggest the lover I was looking for was Him. I laughed and gave him a ridiculous way to prove it, which himself opted not to do (no surprise there: it seems I always ask too much). Then he tells me maybe I should go to church today and I said: ‘Do you even SEE ME HERE? I am having an emotional breakdown in case you haven’t noticed (but I know you notice every fucking detail, so that’s not it). You’ll have to get me there yourself. Which you have not as of 9:29am, and I cried off my eyelashes yesterday and haven’t taken a shower in three days. So like: it’s not happening TODAY!” So like: foiled again. But I keep lowering the bar.

Then he says to me: all those things you wrote about in that sappy disgusting blog post you’re too embarrassed to post is how I feel about you.

I’m like: I call bullshit on that one! I’m waaay too “liberal” these days, and it’s not like I’m becoming REFINED BY FIRE here! No, your fucking fire is BURNING ME ALIVE!🔥😭🔥😶🔥

He somehow drops to His knees (kind of like a Disney prince, if I had to explain it) and he says: I’d wash your feet if you hadn’t gotten that pedicure on Thursday. But I can tell you how many hairs are on your head. [eye roll from me] 21,953. I said: how many DOWN THERE? He said: 10,291!! I shit you not!! The man actually said that! I personally thought the second number was a bit high, but who am I to argue?

So I said: I’ll be damned, I’d forgotten about your wicked sense of humor! He had the balls to say (after everything about everything): I adore every single thing about you.

To which I had to reply: if you want me to hear your voice by going to church, you have to get me there. I’m not going to make it. I knew you weren’t going to do it.

I knew I wouldn’t feel you today. I think I understand how the devil ended up down here. He started out good and got proud and betrayed you. I’m pretty sure I probably would have been the devil, too. It’s true. I would have probably been Lucifer himself if not one of the other angels who betrayed you and were also thrown out. Look at how much you loved him, and now you hate them all.

To which I didn’t expect a reply, to be perfectly honest. Because he’s already made his position known on the matter. And he’s pretty much always stuck to his story. But no, he pops back with: I still love the devil.

To which I said: I must call bullshit again, fine sir! What about those things that seem ridiculous over in Proverbs that say: “these things the Lord HATES”… something about a woman?

You say: I never stopped loving Lucifer. It’s possible to love and hate someone at the same time.

I didn’t have a comeback, but neither did he. We both know my down-here father died a year ago today. He didn’t need to elaborate.

I’m not sure how or if the conversation will progress.