Of course I was happier when I believed in God. Although I’m hesitant to have considered it true belief. I don’t know if I can truly believe in something without having really looked into it. I was told that God exists so that’s what I believed, I never questioned it, but when I finally did and looked into it I found that I had never really believed. It wasn’t at that moment I became unhappy. My disbelief in God isn’t what makes me unhappy. A variety of things make me unhappy. My disbelief in God led to my full belief that after we die there is nothing, and that makes me unhappy, but that I had really feared long before I decided God did not exist.
I almost exclusively think about the nothingness I’ll be living after this life at night. The darkness brings out dark thoughts. Suicide tends to be higher in places with less sunlight. This isn’t a coincidence. I would like an example of a true coincidence. I don’t believe in God, but does that mean I don’t believe things happen for a reason?
I think my mother finally knows I don’t believe in God. I think she knows this because every so often I make disparaging jokes involving God on Facebook, and also it says on my Facebook that I’m an atheist – but I’d much rather be referred to as a nothing – and the other day my mother came in with some supposedly encouraging words relative to ‘even if I don’t believe in God the Universe has a plan for me.’
I have no idea if there’s some force out there in the universe that looks after us, but if there is fuck it. Fuck you Universe. Get out of my way. I have my own plans. I don’t want you controlling me. People often get comforted when they fail by saying that it wasn’t what the Universe wanted, and that the Universe has bigger plans for them – although it’s more often God in place of the Universe. Well I say fuck that. Why can’t the Universe have the same plans as me? I don’t want to gang bang, or sell drugs, or work at Taco Bell to support my compulsive masturbation habits. All I want to do is write. And if the Universe has other plans for me than fuck you Universe, and stay the fuck out of my way.
I often get angry at nothing. Not nothing as in small things that don’t matter, but as in things that don’t exist, like God. When I get angry at things that are seemingly out of my control, like the internet going down at a very inopportune time – I’m sure you assume I mean mid-masturbation, but I mean more like when I’m having a very nice conversation with a girl I like – I often look towards the sky, usually pointing my middle finger upwards, and curse at God saying, “I really hope you exist because it would suck to hate nothing this much.” One could argue that me doing that would suggest that I still have a little bit of a belief in God. But really I just do it because I find it funny; I want my life to be a TV show.
I have this idea for a book, or short story, called Versus God, and it’s about this guy who keeps score between himself and God about the things that happen in his life. For example if he called a girl to ask her out and against all odds she said yes that would be a point for him. But if he called the girl to ask her out and she turned him down because she was getting ready to go out on a date with his best friend that would be a point for God. I’ll probably never write this story in any form, whether it be a book, short story or some kind of movie type script, so feel free to steal the idea.
I get why people don’t want other people stealing their things like writing or ideas or pictures, but I don’t really care. If I could get a movie script made into a movie and get no money for it and no credit and have someone else reap all the benefits I’d do it. It would suck, but it’s better than not having the movie made at all. Plus any good things people say about the movie I would feel good about. Conversely, anything terrible said about it I’d feel terrible about.
People lie. People especially lie on the internet. I’ve met people who have made themselves out to be what they thought is better than they really are, and claimed to be people in pictures who they really aren’t, and this is something I don’t get at all. I get that people want to be liked, but how does receiving compliments for something that’s not true about a person make that person feel better? If anything it makes me feel worse. I have a couple pictures online where I look decent and whenever I receive compliments on them I’m like, “that’s cool, but that’s the best I’ve ever looked in my entire life.” So I suppose in the moment the picture was taken I can feel good about it, but now I’m not that person, so I don’t feel I merit the compliment.
I don’t take criticism well at all, but I also don’t take compliments well. It’s not that I’m humble, it’s that I hate receiving undeserved recognition. I think too much, it’s the problem. I once got mad at a person, not mad towards them but rather internally, because she laughed at something I said that I didn’t think was that funny. It made me angry because I had said funnier things that she didn’t respond to. Of course I completely disregarded that people have different senses of humor.
I hope you disregard this post. But it was a distraction.