A Newer Direction

Last night was just too much for me and I didn’t sleep well. One factor was how angry and hopeless I felt. The second was probably the Diet Mountain Holler or whatever brand the Mexican grocery store that I shop at sells. Two issues are apparent. First, “we’re our own worst enemy” is a trite saying but true. While I enjoyed “hollering” at the time, I didn’t enjoy it with eyes wide open at midnight. We’ll try less today. Second, I’m not the first person on the planet to feel frustrated and hopeless.

I belly-ached about The Bible and not being a real Christian. Let’s put it in context. In today’s era, our moving forms of communication are internet news, which is mostly tribal politics, movies, music and gossip (social media, especially). When it comes to movies, even movies “based upon true facts” (as opposed to the ones based upon true lies I suppose) are stories and we don’t expect them to be real. But they can tell real, meaningful truths that are in some ways more empowered than a retelling of “the facts”. The truth is The Bible is a collection of stories, which don’t have to be physically real to be true. Genesis I and Genesis II, for instance, cannot be simultaneously true, which was easy for me to figure out with an 8th Grade education. That’s because the order of events are different in the two stories. One takes place over a week, and the first couple of days happen before “day” (as in earth rotating on its axis with the sun creating day & night as it rotates) even exists. Suggest to a literal Biblical Christian to edit The Bible and remove one of the two stories (was man created on the sixth day per Genesis I after everything else was created? or was man, then woman, created before plants and other animals were formed on the day the heavens and earth were created? Even worse, the story is self-contradictory in that no plants were created yet, yet there was a Garden of Eden already created.) And, FYI, 666 was no more difficult to figure out.

As far as reality, especially Biblical reality, goes, I think we do well to heed the admonishment to Einstein after he stated “God does not play dice!” Bohr’s witty and relevant reply? “Einstein. Stop telling God what to do.” I’m tired of mediocre minds shaking some printed paper in the air proclaiming “This is God’s word!” as if any of us could possibly know. The fact that a New Testament, then a Q’ran and Book of Mormon and Seth came about makes it clear that the UCCs are probably right, “God is still speaking.” That I need “a bible” to help me is no lie and the biggest tragedy is one was written, just for me, and I didn’t even bother to read it let alone live it.

We are not stupid creatures. Like rats caught in a maze with the cheese no longer the prize, we’ll eventually wander off to find our own truth. Rather than the overwhelming management issue of creating multiple webpages for each channel, I’m just going to blog them with links on the main page: Channel Z. What I’m trying to solve is my own living problem, which seems indecently selfish and self-centered (poor me!) and to find a way to get past life’s ordinary problems: a job I don’t like, a minimum wage salary, too many years of crippling active addiction and going ballistic internally because of everyday events like this:

I was at The Big Store yesterday standing in line at the pharmacy when I felt eyes on me. I turned around to see one man and then another stare at me with disgust and righteous condemnation in their glare. Their wives or girlfriends were oblivious. I could feel the “God Hates Fags!” look, which I imagine is similar in the way women feel when men stare at their breasts with a “Mommy!” or “Yum, pork chops!” look in their eyes. It’s icky. Yes, for the record, I’ve caught myself staring at women’s body parts in that way even though I’m gay. Go figure. My personal prayer, “Please free this person from me!” and I stop staring. It’s wrong. Conversely, people can stare at any way they want to. That’s not the problem, even though it is a problem. The real problem is my reaction. I first became really angry at them, then later, at myself. 

The bottom line: I’m tired of feeling marginalized, self-destructive, self-hateful, co-dependent, bitter, victimized and any other number of negative emotions. Even worse, I’m tired of acting on those feelings staying bitterly trapped in a job for a rather miserable company (we’re based out of Bombay, after all, and are a “second tier” outsourcer call center), or continuing to feel self-destructive because some disapproving stare tells me I should disapprove of myself.

It’s time to start growing-up again to be a new kind of adult. On to Z0003.

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