Why I hate religion.

Religion is one of the worst things that can happen to someone. Faith is fine; belief is good. Trying your best to be a good person within the context of that faith or belief is a laudable goal, but not if religion gets involved.


I mean, religion is one of the most divisive, excluding pigeonholes we Homo sapiens have devised for ourselves. Who cares if you are Catholic or Protestant? The Northern Irish do. What's the huge difference between the Jews and the Christians, persecuting each other for centuries? A testament and a hippie.
I personally identify as agnostic. I believe there might be something out there bigger than myself, a safe place for the souls of my mother and all those who've gone before us. But I don't claim to know what that is, so I prefer not to claim I do.

Religion causes hatred. It encourages bigotry and fear and intolerance. Faith is a wonderful, beautiful thing, and some days I truly wish that I could believe with my whole heart in something I can't see or prove. I think I'd be happier if I could.

But using the "Word of God" (or Allah) to hate, to kill, to ostracize, to bully, to punish, to confine? "God" should not be about those things. The unspeakable atrocities carried out in any god's name are not the fault of faith or belief. They are the fault of religion.

Religion does not create communities. It teaches islationism and intolerance, especially in the "One True Way" religions.

Having been raised in a cult (look it up; Catholicism is a cult) and since broken away from it, I gotta say the idea of a less-structured faith appeals, but I still haven't found anything that truly speaks to me.

Maybe I'll find it; maybe I won't. But you know the worst way to get someone hooked on your particular brand of Kool-aid? Forcing it down their throats. Coming to my door and telling me that I am going to hell is not the way to get me to come to your church. Even if you promise me brownies.

In My Shoes

The shoes I have to wear in public are too tight.

People are always surprised when I claim to be an introvert. I don't like big crowds, lots of people, or loud noises. But I like to be liked; I like to be noticed. So I pretend. And that's when the shoes get too tight.

Around certain people, the shoes change. With some of my friends, they become flip flops or really comfy slippers.

With J, I can be barefoot all the time, knowing that she will rub them and put Neosporin on the blisters that come up when I have to wear my too-tight public shoes.

At work, they are pointy toed heels, just tight enough to let me know they're there, but I've been doing my job for nine years, so they've become broken in, and I mostly feel capable in those shoes.

With most of the people of my acquaintance, I feel like I have to wear different shoes at different times. I have to wear the combat boots with my LARP friends, my ballet slippers with my theater friends, and brand new wedges for the people I knew in high school. None of these are terribly comfortable; all feeling like they are too new, too unwieldy.

Some would probably say that if I wore these shoes more often, they would fit better, but the truth is, I hate shoes. I'd rather be barefoot all the time. But if I do that, I step on rocks and sticks, so my feet always hurt worse when I'm barefoot in public.

So I wear shoes that are largely uncomfortable because it's expected of me.

But lately, I cannot merely grin and bear the discomfort of shoes I didn't choose. I cannot stand them. I walk through someone else's life, wearing shoes I don't even own. And the person they belong to has narrower feet and non-existent toes.

These shoes don't fit. They aren't my shoes. These shoes leave me hobbled, too afraid to take a step because I will twist my ankle, leaving me sitting on the sidelines, as usual, in my fabulous, yet terrifyingly uncomfortable shoes.

Nothing fits, and I end up staring at a rack filled with more shoes than I know what to do with, because it's easier than wearing them.

I probably will never feel like I can be barefoot all the time; that just leaves my feet too vulnerable to the perilous places I have to walk. Maybe some day, I will find a pair that really fits, but for now, I will continue to be barefoot with J, and pretend that the shoes I wear with everyone else don't leave me with blisters Band-aids can't cover.

My Grass Cuts Itself

Scratching my itch with a razor blade

Feelings pouring out red and black

Tired of living but too scarred to die

I just wish I could get the feeling back

I wanna be happy, but I don’t know how it goes

Wishing you were here to make the pain go away

I wanna be content to live one day to the next

Wishing there was something more to say

You lay your body down to protect me when I’m tired

Living with you frees me to do what I detest

I’m hurting and I’m bashful and wishing you were here

I’m sick and I’m weary and so very unimpressed

I wanna be happy, but I don’t know how it goes

Wishing you were here to make the pain go away

I wanna be content to live one day to the next

Wishing there was something more to say

Today is the first day of the rest of my life

But what’s the point of living at all?

Is the “rest of my life” sleep or nothing more?

Can you show me how to stand up when I fall?

I wish I could see what you see when you see me.

I wish I could be that girl for you.

I wish you could remove the blindfold from my mind

and show me that what you see is true.

I wanna be happy, but I don’t know how it goes

Wishing you were here to make the pain go away

I wanna be content to live one day to the next

Can you tell me how to make it one more day?