Deck the halls, with pessimistic skepticism

I adore Jewish food. And the cooking of it. But more than that I adore the tradition of religion in general. People have the common misconception that atheists hate religion, and religious believers. Not true. Or at least not in my case. Not only do have a great respect for religious faith and certainty, I'm incredibly jealous.

I would love to believe that some greater power controls my miserable life. I don't, but it would be nice to force the blame of this train wreck on someone else, wouldn't it?

But on an entirely more superficial level, I just miss the ritual. Getting up early on Sunday mornings, and holidays and putting on decently professional/appropriate attire to heave yourself into the family car and sit uncomfortably for an hour- rising on occasion to chant the monotonous tones of the hymns, you don't actually need the Hymnal's to recite. It sounds grim, and it might have been at the time, but retrospect makes everything more palatable. Church itself- never all that important, but the time spent giggling silently about inside jokes passed between my family members during service and the uproarious discussions at brunch afterward- nostalgia.

Americana was my childhood. Label me what you want, but know this, I appreciated fully every moment of my ever-so-traditional upbringing. I'm living the American Dream, and I'm thankful everyday of my luck. My family is incredible and the sole reason for my privileged life. Genuinely. I am blessed, despite my lack of belief in a higher power- I know the lot in life I drew, is far greater than my own worth. So thank you, universe. It's not gone unnoticed, how incredible you've been to me.

But here it is, Christmas, and I just want the traditional family gathering. When you just spent the holiday drinking and watching Always Sunny in Philadelphia episodes, perforated with the occasional Mighty Boosh, there's not much to complain about, but I miss the extended family sometimes. And the big holiday celebration. I know I have what most people dream of, and for the large part, I'm not discontented either, but when I spend all year alone at school, I want the tradition I lost when I gave up my faith.

A blood relative to replace a spiritual one.

Boo hoo, lucky white girl!

Alas, so I saw Doubt today. Liked it a lot. Nice composition. Unbelievable performances by the entire cast, slightly bogged down in setup, but the ending seemed appropriate. The conflict somewhat short lived.

Also, Blagoyevich can eat shit. Corrupt bastard.

Call me loves, London is not far away and I miss you all already.

Quaaludes and long distance drives.

Is about where I'm at right now. Just rolled into the old haunt. Not exhausted, just sick. I don't like staying up late for that reason- I just feel like absolute shit. About everything, myself, my life, in general. Night is not generally a good time for me- too quiet, too much time to think, and feel.

Note to self: opportunities for uninterrupted ruminations, are dangerous to people with mental health issues.

I'm sick, thinking about things I have no business still thinking about. And then the guilt from thinking those thoughts, makes me feel like even more intensely like... like a degradation of crap. I just want to carve out, to rip out, to disembowel my very being of these memories, of this sickness. I hate that I can't be stronger than I thought I was, and just do that- I'm pathetic and I hate myself for it, but that was it, in terms of my time up till' now. The alpha omega. You never really gave a fuck about me to begin with, but I foolishly believed that bullshit, and you messed my up pretty damn thoroughly. So thanks, it wasn't enough you had to break my already shattered being into oblivion, but the further humiliation of walking into another's arms without a cares notice. Awesome.

No worries, no haterz here, just hurt, deep soul crushing hurt that is keeping me from actually connecting with the myriad of other, actually decent and honest people who I've been seeing and actually manage to treat me with dignity. So more than anything, I just hate that I feel like the residue of you, taints me...





Your insipid poison, leaks into my every pore and make sharp slices, appealing, all the more.

You have broken me all the way down.

You'll be the last; you'll see.

Pain is such a complicated emotion. By definition:
–noun

1.	physical suffering or distress, as due to injury, illness, etc.

2.	a distressing sensation in a particular part of the body: a back pain.

3.	mental or emotional suffering or torment: I am sorry my news causes you such pain.

I think this is pitifully inadequate, Webster's... Pain is humanizing, leveling, grounding. It's our grasp of reality. Think about it. Whenever things are too wonderful, too easy, too pain-free, they become surreal- unbelievable. "Pinch me. I must be dreaming."

So it can't be all bad can it? With no suffering, there is no happiness. Relativity is the basis of "realism," right?

Melancholy, morose, malaise..., real, true, accurate. Happiness is great, and necessary and worth striving for- but it's not the stasis of our being. Were it to be, there would be no feeling of elation, because that would be the norm- unremarkable.









When your mind's made up, there's no point trying to change it. When your mind's made up, there's no point even talking. When your mind's made up, there's no point in even, trying to change it.