About My Own Traumas: Regarding God

ABOUT GOD & PERSONAL TRAUMA

The Answers are Clear,
And All are found Here.

While I may not understand
I still believe in God You see,
For He’s the Sole & Only Man
Who still loves me as I am.

I appreciate your generosity,
Sympathy & Poetic Empathy,
But it’s taking more time for me
Because I lost Absolutely
All And Everything.

I hope you know I still believe,
But don’t expect To Receive
Much of hollow Anything
Since both hidden
Comfort and Relief
I’ve Found are somehow
Lost to me.

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)

April’s Full of Fools

(Thanks @debby.mch for the photo)

APRIL’S FULL OF FOOLS: 2022 HOLIDAYS

Begin the Year Anew: 01/01/22
Blacks are Dreamers, Too: 01/17/22
Say That “I Love You”: 02/14/22
Irish Beer Is Good: 03/17/22
April’s Full of Fools: 04/01/21
Bloody Cross of Wood: 04/15/22
Look, an Empty Tomb!: 04/17/22D
Died for Red•White•Blue: 05/30/22
Free From British Rule: 07/04/22
Kids Go Back to School: [varied]
Labor’s Been Improved: 09/05/22
“Sail the Ocean Blue”: 10/10/22
Night of Ghosts & Ghouls: 10/31/22
War Is Finally Through: 11/11/22
Stuff Yourself with Food: 11/24/22
Seasons of the Yule:
•a) Birth in Crumbling Zoo …12/25/22
•b)8 Days for the Jew 12/19-12/26/22
•c)All Faiths, Must Include… [varied]
Kiss the Year Adieu: 12/31/22

P.S. I realize “Seasons of the Yule: C” is a little weak. Maybe we could discuss it next “Best That I Could Do” Day?


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.

“Broken Bad?” and Recent Weight Loss

So I break laws (take my mother’s estrogen patches) and defy the universe to even try to fuck with me again on that lame old score (breast cancer).

Cause that bitch done already been paid over and over and over again. In a million different ways. She owes ME at this point. Besides, she wouldn’t recognize me anymore.

Why? Oddly enough and without trying, I think I’ve mastered [and all inaccuracies and ignorances are mine here, especially since I’ve never read it] “the subtle art of not giving a fuck.”

Because:

Isn’t it a little presumptuous of anyone to assume ANY of us will be here tonight, tomorrow, or 3 months from now? In fact, I nearly laughed out loud just now making a 3-month follow-up appointment with my migraine doctor.

I don’t know what kind of/if any philosophy my views might reflect. I only know this is how I feel/what I think: who knows, I’m always getting the two confused, anyway.

At least this is what I feel-think today. That could change tomorrow. I can’t commit to much of anything at this point, you see. So I’m sorry/not sorry. You’ll just have to deal with it.

What does this look like, practically speaking? I can (of course) only speak for myself. But…

I do stupid things like: I go off and leave personal belongings at the doctor’s office, then have to drive THE WHOLE WAY BACK to retrieve them. Yeah…why weren’t they the kind of personal belongings I wouldn’t have been allowed to exit the building without? If I’d left my mask, I know I wouldn’t have gotten far.

I’ve also become a terrible judge of character, turning Ignorant Assholes into Prince Charmings with NO DATA WHATSOEVER TO SUPPORT THESE CONCLUSIONS!!

Thank goodness I seem capable from learning from my mistakes in that department. This week at least.

I sing karaoke too much, smoke weed too much, forget to feed myself, refuse to clean my room, and spend far too much of my discretionary income on my hair [because I intend to look good for the duration].

Maybe I’m a little fixated on my hair because I’m so glad it grew back? I don’t know if this theory holds water because I also spend money on my sexy fake fingernails.

So… no news to you, my friends, but I’m not being particularly responsible these days. [Visitors: don’t get excited thinking you’re going to scam me; I’m not a sucker anymore, sucker – and even when I was, you couldn’t squeeze me.]

For my subscribers, who have suffered through at least one of my posts, we need to collectively face reality: I suck at karaoke. Yes, it’s true and I know it’s true. Y’all are just being sweet, but I know I suck.

Yet… I still don’t care!! Maybe because there’s no one left to embarrass but my mom, and no one would dare inform her of her adult daughter’s colossal lapses in judgment (out of respect for my mom).

I don’t know if it’s the weed or an existential crisis or even a POST-existential crisis. I only know I’m both a Total Flake and an Utter Mess.

At least that’s the look I’m shooting for.

This week.

How am I doing?

Cresting Clouds

CRESTING CLOUDS

You kept me on a heavy, tight leash my entire life.

I bear the deep scars around my neck to prove it.

Of course they healed over after I gave up,

no longer bucking against your imprisonment.

By confining me early, you confined me for life;

or at least long after you broke me.

You didn’t break me, though, did you?

I learned to venture out and live again.

I still bear the scars, but I finally escaped when you turned away.

Now I’m bouncing back high, higher, highest…

weightless to the point of cresting Heaven itself.

Any second now; I’m so close,

I can almost feel it…

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.

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?

I Don’t Have a Work Ethic

I don’t have a work ethic at all anymore. In fact, I often feel and behave like a 54-year-old adolescent.

But please remember this:

I came out of the womb responsible. I drove carpool 40 miles away as soon as I got my used car at 16, delivering two little girls to school safely and soundly every day.

I skipped 4th grade, graduated from college at 20 and graduate school at 24. I never missed a day of work unless I was violently ill.

After taking time off for frivolous things like trying to have a family and fighting cancer, nobody wanted to hire me anymore.

So remember this when you judge me (because you will):

I’m the big oak tree you had cut down 10 years ago because of a wicked case of oak blight.

Now you’re confounded by those strange green shoots growing out of the stump that’s me. The one with the roots that extend under your house?

Don’t write me off yet.

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.