I’m a catholic.
I was born with a moral stain, passed down from generations upon generations.
The woman who defied his law, seduced his lover into the ultimate crime.
Why was the tree even there? Don’t ask questions, these questions are the sympton of the problem. You are not supposed to know why the tree was even there. You wouldn’t even asked if the tree hadn’t been defiled.
Where did the snake do before his life of crime? How God judge his previous creations, those who did not appear in his holy book. The dinosaurs I suppose had no consciousness. They were allowed to be savages. Did he turn away from them, allow the comet to destroy their kind, because he wanted to try civilization?
Don’t ask questions, it’s the sympton of the sickness we were born with. A spiritual defects that can only be qualmed through humble prayer and divine bribery- depending on what you belief and how insincere you need to be, maybe God doesn’t need you to be sincere. All you need to do is belief and follow the rules and say sorry when you fuck up.
But what about our state of being now? You wanted us to love you by choice but the choice was never for us in the first place. The choice has been ingrained into our being, programmed in our biological software. At first we thought we were free. That’s what the book told us. But now we know we are not. Some men can never have faith. It is not in their program.
I know I’m not supposed to ask questions. I’m supposed to shut up and sit still. A man comes with the collection plate and I’m supposed to put a coin in there. The same songs are played every year, and I must pretend to feel your spirit. The moment comes when I’m supposed to shake the hands of those next to me. Announcements are made. Condolences are made. Lives I will never get to know. Then we are free to go, just as long as we come back.
Do all believers feel silly now and then when they pray?
Sometimes there is so much love in the world, there is room for you too.
Other times, there is all this love and then I begin to wonder; do I really need you there?
There are men of God I admire. There are men of God I fear and despise. I know that no matter how bad it gets down there, there will never be any guarantee of your intervening. I know it’s just not your way.
Maybe you lost your mind. You are out there, spouting dribble, explaining the science of creation to demented wino’s. Maybe you gave up on us and went on to create different worlds and different species of life. Maybe your other experiments went better.
But even if you didn’t care for us, what about your other earthly creation? Don’t they love you enough? It’s not their fault. You didn’t program them that way. Some say they are not allowed to get into heaven. I don’t like that. I think you owe all of us, living or dead, a place of paradise. Sometimes I look into the eyes other animals, and I can’t help but think; that’s so much better than humans.
Don’t you get that feeling too?
I know I’m not supposed to ask questions. But I can’t help myself, it’s part of the program.