kites

i have so many thoughts overlapping each other, i can barely remember how to formulate comprehensible english. i wonder. why do people believe in God? because he's real? for convenience? for necessity? is it possible i hit my mid life crises before i even turned 30? one of the overwhelming things on my mind these days is the disappointment in the person i've become and what's to happen when that disappointing person hits her expiration date? really, what happens? i've taken to alot of soul searching recently about how i feel about the magic santa that lives in the clouds. the jolly ole soul who lives in the sky and passes out treats and spankings like some sadistic micromanaging preschool teacher. you gave the poor your bread? it will rain 2 good days on your crop this season. you said a curse word? leprosy for you! really? why is leprosy not capitalized? i did spell check and everything. it's a proper noun, right? the official name of a disease? well, i guess they don't capitalize cancer.....but that's pretty generic. i feel like leprosy should be with a big L...................coming back down from space. anyway. my point is, for all these people who live in our modern, unmiricalized time, why do they believe in God or the possibility of the hereafter? there is NO evidence in the entirety of history that there has ever been one incidence of legitimate recorded PROOF that life exists after death. none. who's to say this jesus fellow did? he didn't have a guard in the tomb. what if he really was the great magician and bored a hole out one side of the tomb after the guys thought they'd sealed it. i mean before. like had someone do it before the crucifixion. you get what i'm trying to say here. what if he rigged an escape? what if he was one of those people who study how to slow your heart rate so people will think you're dead? just realized i could go off on a huge tyraid on that one. now that i'm dating a magician. i've been having panic attacks on a fairly regular basis lately that all stem from the fear of the moment that i have to go from total consciousness to the POSSIBILITY of the total and complete lack of consciousness from here on after. never again having a single thought or memory. the total and utter lack of existence. the only thing i keep thinking that gives me some scientific comfort is the fact that energy doesn't die, it only changes. it adjusts it's form. what if there is no heaven or hell. no ghosts, no angels, no demons. no spirits of any sort. your electrical impulses simply slip out into the air and rejoin the infinite ocean of energy. that pulses through everything, living and slightly more devoid of energy than the aforementioned "living". like maybe some kind of more advanced form of consciousness, like beyond consciousness into just "being". i got lost in a tangent and wildly romanticized that. trying to look at it that way is really the only way i can make myself come back down off the repeated panic attacks of realizing this will one day happen and there is no way, no single possibility under the sun for me to do a single thing about it. one way or the other, i'm going to die. i spend my whole life worrying about teensy detail after ridiculous detail on how to control my life. even if it's not the bigger picture of what i would have preferred happen, i can still control the general flow of my life. no surprises, no excitement, no new nothing....just existing as this. this person, this is who i am. this this this this this. she likes this kind of food, she wears these kind of clothes. she likes this kind of music. she may "want" to like this other music, but she's not allowed to because she's not that person.

i live in a very strict existence box. then why does it bother me so badly that i may not exist if this is all i'm going to do with it? i wish i even had a pretend decent answer for that. it's still mine. even if i hide it away in my closet, the existence is still mine...ya know?

is the reason we have deities because none of us can bear the literal thought of being faced with an eternity of nothing? is it just too hard to swallow so some survival mechanism in our brain forces us into believing death isn't the end? because if it "really" wasn't the end, there would be no legitimate reason for living and there is no good and there is no evil because there is no reward and there is no punishment. there only is and then is not. you would be 100% free to be completely the person you wanted to be....assuming you were strong enough to escape the wrath of all those rapists and cannibals what not. bah. where was i going? my preposterously wompyjawed point is, i think human kind, in whatever evolutionary triumph or failure has become dependent on the thought of having at least some control and can't fathom the literal idea of no possibility of it....such as nonexistence. or lack of some sort of universal balance. rewards, punishments, reincarnation. something. the possibility of no possibility is more than most people can bear............

or at least more than i can.

i'm going to bed.