Dear God, I’m losing my religion

“That’s against my religion”, was something I used to say whenever I didn’t want to do something. I’ve used it so much my religion must look like a series of things I cannot do. Over the past few years I have done so many things that were against my religion. Chief amongst was my attempt to wed. I proposed, I entered into a long engagement, and even after it was ended I attempted still to slip in the back door using a civil union. Now it would seem that whatever force guides this universe has deemed me unworthy of even that. My mystical undefined religion came with many other rules that I broke as well; camping, driving, listening to music that I don’t like, and most importantly putting someone else above myself.

“We stand upon a time marked by revelations”, words I heard somewhere once, I forget where, probably some song I liked once, or some movie I’ve seen a thousand times. The rules of my religion were never written down, rather improvised on the spot. Violating them was a part of the religion. A religion where I was God, Devil, and devotee: a hodge-podge of fancies and whims that built a confused and misguided philosophy of me. Concern for blasphemy wasn’t absent it was non-existent. I sought an ever evolving personal religion, tailored to the individual. I looked into other similar religions, strange sects of nihilist Buddhist, Chaos Magick, Discordianism, The Church of the Subgenius. Yet they offered only building blocks to the philosophy I was building.

 My first attempt to label it was The Piedmont Community Cult. It lasted little over a week but it was the first time I tried to write it down. The main tenant of the PCC was “put no man above thine-self”, the problem was I should have changed that to person, because I have continuously placed woman after woman on some sort of pedestal. PCC was about centering the world on oneself. The magick of you would cause reality to bend and shape to your design. Even if others could not see the energy swirling around shaping the world around them, even if their own energies swirled in conflict to yours both individuals would achieve their goals, because reality was subjective and depended largely upon perception of the individual. We could all have our way and the world could be what we wanted. This w, as the mid-90s, so, needless to say I was doing a lot of acid at the time. And tripping the light fantastic put me in some weird and wild situations. Repeated violation of the first tenant brought me to this faithless place I find myself in now. I just should have written person instead of man!

Somewhere along the road, making up my own religion I lost it. I became mired in what was against my religion; I forgot what my religion was. It has changed shape so many times, mimicking other philosophies, morphing from Utopian to Dystopian along the way. I went from exalting the self/individual, to seeing no worth in either the one or the many. I became an atheist against myself. The other became the focus. The elusive Other, that mythical someone else who’ll see how special I am and vice versa. This ghost will never be caught. No one will acknowledge the special in you until you first honor and recognize it yourself. God doesn’t love you until you love yourself, right? And I can’t love a God that doesn’t love me most. I feel now that there is a balance somewhere in the middle. Finding a mutual love, where both of us are raised on pedestals by the other. Dual symbioses.

 

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