All this fucking noise. All of it. Its pointless. I mean, here we are in this life, this time. Its all we have. In God's eyes its a blink. So I wonder all the time, what can he do in a blink? If our lives are a blink, thats tens of thousands of days. He created the world in 7 days, 7 of our days.
So much doesn't add up, and so I begin to wonder: is he real and humans are just full of shit, or is he not real, and humans are still full of shit? Either way you've got a race dominant of the food chain, ruling the earth, and they can't even be honest to themselves. So how can we trust anyone? I can't even trust myself and yet others trust me. Does this make sense? No. Not in the slightest.
Trust. Its a strong word, with an even more powerful meaning. Assured reliance on the character, ability, strength, or truth of someone or something. How do we come to this? How can we feel this with a human being? We let our guard down and lie to ourselves, thats how. Trust is often broken. It is a common theme in movies and books. A trust is broken, a bond is tested. These are things we soak up like sponges, revel in, and relate to, because these are things that happen in our daily lives. We are not creatures of honesty, yet we are creatures of society. This is fact. We are not meant to be alone, and yet we are destined to loneliness if we struggle with being honest, especially to ourselves.
We all lie to ourselves. Anyone who claims they don't are full of shit. I lie to myself all the time, it keeps the smile on my face, however some days it does not work. The point is, however, that nobody is fully true to themselves and nobody really knows who they are on the inside. The outside doesn't even matter, its a shell, a casing. What matters is in our heads, in our brain, and in our heart and soul.
I lie to myself all the time. I like to believe I'm open-minded and a good person. I am neither of these things. I lie to people. A lot. To people who mean a lot to me, such as my mother. Its become such a common occurrence in my life that its become somewhat normal. I hate admitting it. She deserves a better son. I'm not open-minded. Not like I preach, anyway. I am a racist. Through thought and self reflection, I have accepted this and I really do think that everyone is a racist. Not from choice, but it is a survival instinct. It is, think about it: we see on the news black people shooting each-other, Asians building the coolest robots and shit, Europeans being snotty faggots. Russians being hackers and communists. We are bred to be scared and from this fear comes out racism.
When I say racism, I merely mean it as another form of stereotype. Its quite simply our brains categorizing people, places, things and colors into groups so they can be quickly identifiable. Its a survival technique and one of the most important, and it is a testament to our remarkable will to adapt and evolve. Yes, evolve. Chill the fuck out. Its real, it happens. Thats another topic though. We see these things and they trigger our brain to associate people and ethnic groups to things like violence or smarts. So when a small white woman walks down a dark street and two black men are walking by, her fear stems from the gang-bangers she saw on TV, who bear the same skin color as said gang-bangers. Its natural, we shouldn't look down on her for being scared. It's not her fault, it's a survival instinct, like our instinct to fuck. So really, the only people we have to blame are ourselves. It's true. If, as a people, we grow to be better, safer, and moral, we can avoid this kind of thing. If black people were less widely shown to be bad people, we wouldn't have these kinds of situations.
Open-mindedness is a constant battle we have within our minds. And its a losing battle as we grow older. I know this, I am losing myself while gaining more individuality. That may sound like an oxymoron, and it is. But I am an oxymoron. I am a good person and a racist. I am a good person, in my own right. I try my best, and thats all humanity can do.
So God can fuck himself with all this talk of being perfect, of being free from sin. It's impossible. But like the 12 Steps say, admitting you have a problem is the first step to overcoming it.