Truant Memphis
Pages From The Filling Station

Second Fuckalonians Chapter 1, Verses 1-5

4/1/2019

 
Everywhere I go, I’m the problem. No less true today than the first time I had this realization over a decade ago. I’m the problem. Why? I’m not certain. Perhaps I simply take this entire situation too seriously.

I was raised in the Southern Baptist Church. Thus, I was indoctrinated at an early age that this is serious business. Life is serious business. We’re all in a battle for our very souls. Our very souls! An eternity in heaven or hell. Choose your weapon wisely. Maybe this is my problem. Apparently, I was highly susceptible to training. I was highly susceptible to feeling special. God chose me? Nice.

Now I’m middle aged and weary. Tired of hedging my spiritual bets. Tired of watching everything I was taught to believe in continue to crumble away. For the time being, to define the scope, let’s refer to the Golden Rule as the gist of everything I was taught to believe in.

With the Golden Rule, along with the rest of the loving teachings of Jesus downloaded into my fleshy brain goo, I walked away from religion years ago, probably around the same time I first thought to myself, “Everywhere I go, I’m the problem.” Of course, despite having walked away from the religion that helped train me into believing I was a spiritual being, I’m still formed by those teachings. The program files are still running in my brain goo cpu. My heart’s desire to be good, to do good, to protect my soul against an eternity of damnation, that desire still rules my existence. Again, I call it hedging my spiritual bets.

Back to point, perhaps I take this whole situation too seriously. I look around at a world that appears to have lost its collective mind. Even those screaming into the wind that none of this is as it should be have likely given into lunacy (at least on some level), in order to survive all this nonsense. I’m certain I have. Why Bob, why?
 

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