Most of the time, these types don't swear, miss church or have road rage, but they won't do you a favor either. Bless their heart. I think many of these people are hiding the fact that deep down inside they are just self-centered misers who need a God-cover to make themselves feel better in some way. None of it makes any sense to me but I am becoming cynical... ooooh so cynical taking that dogma for a walk. I'd rather pet a real dog, smile at a stranger, strike up a conversation with the tired UPS guy, over-tip a waiter, make soup for a random neighbor, or play cards with a child too young to know how to shuffle.
In my own way, I am quite spiritual... in the sense that I'm sure that there is a bigger picture here that I can't understand, but knowing that reminds me hourly of the responsibility to honor that moral code. Don't get me wrong, I like the candles, the kneeling and the sacrifice towards a greater good, but it is the overwhelming hypocrisy that is killing it for me. Over and over, I am a witness to this nasty, self-absorbed church-going mass of people who are the embodiment of everything I don't want to be. And yet... they feel sorry for me because I will be going to their HELL.
Blasphemer, they say!
Nope. Sorry to the judgmental throngs pointing the finger at the white-haired lady who is traveling down the roguery of East meets West... celebrating a certain sort of Kwanza-mas-ukah this month, and will never (ever) be quite sure at this point who she is. I may not know what I am... but I know what I'm not.
I don't want any part of a club who listens to cashmere-wearing Pearly Gate judges as they bake Fire and Brimstone cupcakes thrown at anyone who doesn't join in.
Out.
I am not afraid. I am not in charge, and neither are you.
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