Little Miss Homo Sapien's Cave

The Sound Of Muse Who’s Sick


I’m finding it hard to believe in anything these days. Especially those that require my loyalty and full trust, because to begin with if I know for myself that they deserve my loyalty and full trust by virtue of the vibes they generate in first meeting then I wouldn’t be having second thoughts.

Okay, fine. I’m just really a paranoid android.

It’s just that I’ve been betrayed by many of the things I’ve given my trust to. Institutions, most of them. While others choose to just move on and completely dissociate themselves from their traitors, I on the other hand get hung-up. It’s difficult for me forgive and forget. Particularly forget. Now I’ve become this strain where I can’t help but raise my browses when declarations and promises of epic proportions are made.

Not exactly the most convenient trait for a person who’s overly sensitive and emotional. There you go.

Common sense tells me that the wrong of one is not the wrong of all. To hold my horses, that there’s no point in wallowing in negative energy (o yea). To not fret for I have a couple more seconds to live, thank you very much. To give things the benefit of the doubt and try to look at them with a worldview. Perhaps I’d even discover that I’m worth the betrayal. And so the devil’s advocate is sitting on my shoulder, forever arguing that nothing is impossible, and that it may very well be that God is coordinating with Satan now regarding my afterlife for, among other things, questioning His sexuality as a pastime and having no qualms about getting excommunicated.

But I don’t have a problem with God. I actually do believe in a Higher Being. It cannot be that there’s no God. What just really makes me want to shave my head off in a room of long-haired cardboards are those who preach that you’ll roast in hell if you don’t buy their shampoo, God, according to them, being the Ultimate Cocomilk.

How dare do I think for myself, huh?

When we were innocent and impressionable kids, we were told of different kinds of myths and legends and the genesis of things created. We were story-told of how there came to be a snake, why certain fruits and plants taste and appear the way they are and why humans have differing skin colors–which got to be my favorite. And how could we forget the superstitions our adults threatened us with? Do not sleep with your hair wet–you’ll get blind. Do not cut your nails on an evening–bad luck will follow you always. Do not cross your eyes before great wind–you’ll get permanently cross-eyed. When you and your sister grow up and get married to your respective groom, do not do it within the same year or else–wait a second, how does that one go again?

Basically, JUST DO NOT.

Those stories and caveats were obviously a result of a period that lived in in great dread and terror. So what its people did to stunt that gnawing fear was to create credence out of what they deemed would favor to their collective sanity. Look around and you’ll see the proof of that everywhere: religions, cults, dogmas, doctrines. Twisted beliefs made of monoliths that no heft and size of open-mindedness can break down to pieces. Because we’ve been brainwashed. I wonder, now that we’re pretty old ourselves and have discovered that we were incredibly bamboozled as kids by the adults, what more could they be hiding from us, cheating us of? If as simple as where the Female came from could not be told to us without reeking of sexism, I wonder if they still lie to us now, like whenever they deny and cover up for their peeps’ sexual transgressions against young boys.

Revelations of historical fraud have been spilling for the longest time now. They came with women, which they Greatly Hunted. They came with scriptures, whose pages they both edited and completely tore out. They come with books, which they burn. They come with rationality, which they bully. Yes, time and again these frauds would be quickly defended by the modern Crusaders, I mean God’s Chosen Ones, by calling those who cry deception as, altogether now, heretics! Paranoid androids whose jobs are demolition! I don’t feel the need to explain myself to a bunch of old farts who don’t bother to listen to start with; all I want is for them not to run my life and those of other people. Let God Himself send me to hell and I’d be privileged. Just don’t play God. Don’t make life on earth a hell for me by controlling my life choices.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s