Inspired.

Lascaux Caves - Prehistoric Paintings. Русский...Lascaux CavesThere was a time in my old myspace blog - yearly, I'd write a long summation of me for new friends and people just curious as to "who" I am. The specifics on who I am is debatable. I'm not even sure at most times and get lost in the societal configuration of a role I've been forced to play for survival. I'm doubtful, insecure in my self condemnation and knowingly obnoxious about my vagina.

So- being inspired by a vintage act of a friend, here is my yearly.



Who I think you think I am : A bitch - a smart, mean spirited one.

Mostly truthful - the clincher though is you're an ignorant one who works diligently to hide behind smiles, and fake sentiments. I allow this because on a deep, mysterious level it makes me feel like an infant wrapped in a  warm, tight blanket. It pacifies me. It has long been understood by me that people who have the most to hide will put on the most grand of shows. They're the ones who work to extrodinary means to hide themselves. Surround themselves with friends, church and various support systems to maintain a well created costume of kindness. It's a morality fence... an ethics sticky note for them. It keeps people from doing things they'd otherwise do if no one was watching, or cared. The power of group conformity for those who'd do horrible unspeakable acts if given free reign has great protections... as long as diverse. If it lacks diversity then it has potential for atrocity that is worthy of a cave drawing, and writing on papyrus ... :)

Religion is a good example.

Moving on:

I'm mentally debilitating; verbally rude; challenging to authority. I'm slowly developing into an anarchist of sorts. Maybe. I suppose I've always been a quasi -anarchist- of- sort, some friends have pointed that out for well over 20 years. I dismiss this - I will label myself, so fuck you, you can't. Currently my labels are blank due to fluctuation in my views. 

I'm also called a neopragmatist, a critical realist, critical naturalist and several others from time to time. Depends on the subject in which we discuss ... I'm anti-religion, anti-theist and what's called a firebrand atheist - I will confront or heckle you for believing in magic and the extreme absurdity of deity worship in modern times ... You cave crawlers with archaic beliefs are destroying the world one nation at a time ... So are the liberal radicals.. Making everything so politically correct that thought has become a crime and any word which could cause slight discomfort being banned; any food that gives the liberal vegans and like a pinch in their food moralistic asses will also be banned, as well as anything they determine to be unhealthy ... all for the greater good of man, of course.

I'm slightly harsh :)

I'm overly passionate- if there can be such a thing, to a starving child or person. I understand - while not understanding, why starvation exists in a world with an abundance of food and wealth. I understand - while not understanding, why war still exists. Why healthcare has to cost - shouldn't life be held to a higher regard? I think so - apparently others think money - a created currency, worth more. No one operates on life possessing intrinsic value ... it's all external to them. Time is measured by this currency as well - not by the acts of an empathetic people.

Sociopaths.


I think -
a lot.

I'm poetic. I'll write cryptic thoughts - often clouded by my own emotions, which may or may not be justified.

I'll say I've grown and no longer "hate" a certain ex - that's a lie. I fucking "hate" that bastard. Still. If I ever go rogue serial killer - I'd take him out first. But even that's a lie.  


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Poisoning the Well

This is what makes me cringe. It is when you have otherwise intelligent people stooping to mundane bullshit that's been repeated from every newbie atheist I've read over the last 20 years. Even managed to get in a "sky daddy" reference. These types of rebuttals or plays off Christian positions - or certain Christians, are not productive. They aren't created to chafe the theists - they are made to appease the atheist who needs to insult/belittle and make theists - who are doing what our cultures and civilizations has told them to do for thousands of years, feel ignorant or shamed.

They do truly think that if God were taught in schools that this wouldn't occur - but you can't show them the truth while leading them into defensive positions as a result of you demoralizing them. Insults served are opportunities to engage missed...

Leaving Atheism, 1 Corinthians 13:11

"When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways." 
When I say I'm leaving atheism this doesn't mean I'm a believer now. Far from belief, and it is not amendable. I'm leaving what has become a movement of malicious thought. I'm not alone in my purposeful removal. Atheists have become comfortable defining their atheism by constant attack or discussion of religion. Atheist parents pages and similar are nothing more than hateful dissection of posts by Christians on their pages. People who have let them peer into their world, belief systems and everyday life. They take these posts that I know are shared with much love, particularly ones regarding their love for their children, and they tear at this love. They twist meanings into perverted, menacing, and creepy ideas. They comment with cruel jokes and insults. Atheists aren't alone in this type of behavior - Christians, Muslims, etc, do same and even write me sadistic messages.

But I'm not a Christian, Muslim, etc... I'm a non believer. So when my "community" is not one I feel conducive to helping me grow mentally, emotionally as a wife, mother and woman, what use are they to me? I'm not a closeted atheist. I have paid the price of being a vocal atheist. I'm living my life - not defined by an atheism that has become a movement that mirrors the same behaviors as fanatical theists. I'm living a life that has many purposes and want none of them to be rooted in lack of compassion, fanaticism or zealotry. There is a political force within atheism - mainly left, that is harmful to intellectual inquiry and pursuit of truths. Surely the right has its flaws, but I'm not a conservative, or at least on many issues, so my concern is for the left, or the "new left." A new left that has become as close minded, historically illiterate and lacking intellectual competence as the right. In our journey to end racism, inequality, environmentalism, etc., we've become ignorant and disingenuous. Hateful. Racist. Intolerant. In our attempt to establish anti-racism we've promulgated the idea that skin pigment alone is a determination for privilege. That regardless of another beings ethnicity, religion, sex, sexual orientation, age, geographical location and the many filters of our various caste systems - white alone is a determination for privilege. Worse, we deny the reality of the many cultures around the globe and focus exclusively on America. We care more for "pure" crops than we do the humans who need the food. We care more for lions we never heard of prior, than we do the humans dying of hunger around them. Atheism is becoming more and more the movement of science denialism. We have extremists who silence inquiry. On the other side we have people who promote systems lacking compassion and economic inequality. People who hate.

So I'm leaving the movement. I'm leaving the communities. I'm quitting the blog I write under my alter ego. You have nothing to offer me that will nourish me as a human striving to be good. This doesn't mean I won't interact with other atheists - it means I won't accept childish, hateful, bigoted pages, forums etc., anymore in my feeds. 



C'est la vie

Torn apart
as a letter read
by an angry ex lover
who in a moment of emotional confrontation
just fucking loses all control.
I'm infantile like that at times.
I'm inward, drawn up tight into my intellectual cocoon.
It's fucking safe in here with all my thoughts of disassociation.
I can't always be amused by your disdain for my natural forte.
Sometimes I just need to hide - not from you, but from my exterior self.
You can't grasp what I never let you see - I've learned this skill as survival.
I excel at self deception and replication of the facade you most desire.
I'll destroy what you've come to love about me.
My predictability.



Monster and Jacks

Monsters and Jacks have much in common in my mind. I've never compared the two until I seen this image. Being metaphorical for the adults or people who were piranhas on my childhood, they became the monsters who lurked in my turbulent youth. A boat cast upon a sea - as they watched, waited...The jacks were pieces of me that the monsters swept up and my life became tethered to a ball of chaos.



Meme of Necessity



I was asked,"What does it feel like to be an atheist?"
As if by rejection of a meme I lose my strength, weakness, hatred, peace, insecurity or optimistic pessimism.
As if by dismissal of a meme I am no longer bound to the human condition of want, need of the intimacy I share with my child as he looks into my eyes.
But without God - they say, "How do you love?"
To which I reply, "How does one not love? What empty place does your definition of humanity inhabit that one cannot have love - feel love, without acceptance of a meme?"
Where do you get this love you possess that told you in hostile darkness that I cannot love?
That I must be sad.
Lost.
Desolate.
Am I studying a holy book, like grains of sand upon a beach of doubt - year after year, hoping for a different message to make life clear?
Is it me who needs to think I have special purpose - or if no meme, I have no purpose at all?
How can those thoughts be happiness?
That you have - and I cannot, because I don't share your meme.
But without God, they say, "How do you have morals?"
To which I reply,"I don't. My guidance is compassion. Morals can be used for good or acts of aberration.
Understanding I hurt, I don't hurt.."
I know not to hurt, while you rush to memorize and repeat a scripture, not quite remembering the chapter or verse, I've already shared my compassion, grown and taught through example.
You are haunted by the numbers, those pages - forever needing to type them out, to make them evident - to punish those with ...
each.

click.
of.
your.
keys.
To regurgitate and spat - even if useless, irrelevant or cruel by comparison of compassion.
You'll cling to empty words - no intent to feel their pain.
Just words - words in a chapter, within a verse.
You'll use yours to oppress, and I will use mine to lift.
You will say what one cannot do, based on a meme.
While I example empathy for our human fragility and show compassion as freedom.
We are opposites.
There is space for you and your meme of human necessity.
Your necessity, not mine.
Keep in mind...
Those of us who make love a purpose can endure our divides.
We can entwine.

Read? Set? Community!?!

Can atheists create fellowship- in real life, not online forums, pages, etc? Real life. This is something I’ve talked about for years. Not all, but a good portion of us, want community. We want fellowship. This topic always ends up in arguments and defensive rhetoric. Often opposition is from more zealous atheists with a very rigid view of atheism. While acknowledging that atheism is one thing, and that the many of us under the umbrella are indeed very diverse, they (the argumentative) will then set out to force you into one category…This comes into play when the argumentative, inexperienced, non parent (usually)decides that you can’t have singular ideologies, it must instead be various types of atheists with different - many different, non-discriminative ideologies, something like UU – which bores the piss out even the dead, coerced into one "group"...Anyone discrimi ative is bad. In short, their diversity isn't diversity at all. While they have In group diversity, outer groups are evil, & need shunned. For instance, me being trans critical is discriminatory. 
Utopianistic mindflubber: rather than accept that the diversity of those who share one aspect of themselves, can’t then enlarge that to include say – scientific humanism, while rejecting socialist feminism. We must give all the children cookies, even the ones unaccounted for. A big slice of political correctness. We must not offend by our exclusivity. They can’t understand the diversity of atheists and expand that to the fact that not all atheist can blend into the political, scientific etc ideologies of those whom they don’t agree. It can’t be overlooked. This is despite them witnessing the truth of this in forums, pages and the other areas that atheists find community in virtual life. Like a child, they want you to make it all inclusive.
Unapologetic, I say, "No.”
Fellowship is about sharing with those a set of common goals, beliefs and shared views. I do not share the views of far right or far left… I would not seek community from a place that did. Churches are diverse because people understand/interpret and practice the religious material in various ways. In our political beliefs we vary, even within a single party, wevdevelop factions. Atheists need not create fellowships under “atheism” alone. It is ok to make that more specific to our different views, from far left to far right, and shades in between.
People assume that the reason why one is an atheist might have something to do with hating organized religions, or organized anything… Not true. This also filters their opinions on the topic. They assume that all atheist are so for standard reasons. Everything must be according to them. I’ve grown to be quite the snippy bitch when I talk to these types of people. I dislike ignorance wrapped in intelligence, much like I wouldn’t care for shit even if wrapped in bacon.

I fucking love bacon.

On a recent thread I put out there what a number of us want, those of us who have experienced church, synagogues or mosques… The bonds, love and support you get. These bonds are very powerful. The success that traditional church has had in creating communities within their faith is second to none… Why is it we as secular, or atheist with varying other added ideologies, hasn’t tried to replicate that? Or why has our replicas failed?
Well, because you try to be all inclusive, that is why.
Things I don’t want to hear at fellowship:
2 hour lecture on bosons and fermions.
Space News
1 hour lecture on gender roles and male supremacy
1 hour of anything mystical, alternative, or weird
Music of Asia, India, or flute music from unknown place as you take me on a spiritual journey
Sex education
That my breeding is killing the earth
Anti-gmo, anti-vaxx or anything in that area
Male patriarchy anything…
I will sit and listen as you read and teach on a foundation to live a better life- philosophical discussion on easy terms, connected to various religions(to connect human element) or other material, including shared views of topic by scientists or other intelligentsia. Life. I will listen as you connect on life issues. I would love for my children to have Sunday school or etc – and have those classes consist of learning humanist philosophy on life, death, love, giving, respect, manners, emotional health and a safe place to explore relationships and building life long friendships. Many of us want mom circles and father groups to help us deal with our roles and expectations. To lift us when we are falling.

Recipes and craft? FUCK YES. Share your birthing stories too. Menstrual pain? Share the gory details, like a fishing story - IT WAS THIS LONG.

I miss and totally under appreciated those.
To give us a place to breathe and share separate from our partners with those we trust in fellowship. These friendships – these bonds, are the glue of the community.
One of the big reasons why church has the success it does, is a central philosophy. One book-  though interpreted many ways, unites them. Why can’t individual fellowships by atheists do same? Create one based on world philosophies, shared motifs throughout humanity that show it is human, rather than Gods. Quotes or pieces that are connected to wells of knowledge – ones while uplifting, also expose us to the human condition and challenges us to think differently. Things we can relate to. Even that can be expanded into science. Many working families can’t afford to go purchasing different books to come to fellowship and read or study. A central book of essential life issues, realities and common motifs of humanity would be welcomed and can help as a guide to researching – just as bibles do. Why not have passages on happiness, fulfillment and why we need these things?
When I suggest these things it gets into heated debates on whether it is cultist behavior – because a Carl Sagan quote connected to one by Epicurus will definitely drive you into killing yourself with spiked Kool- Aid. Eisenstein jointed with Socrates is used by all brainwashing cults. Finally, anything by Daniel Dennet, Sam Harris or poetry by Keats is surely the sign I’m ready to subscribe to doomsday tripe.
So silence, us parents, needing community – we sigh. We sigh and we go to traditional churches. We sit through bible literature – counting the minutes until the “coffee nook” hour begins. We sit on our hands through long scripture readings, wondering if our children are happy and creating bonds that otherwise are hard to facilitate outside church. We smile as the dreaded prayer is over and we head to social hour and the exchange of uplifting motivation, recipes, fishing trips and networking. We hug one another. We have contact, but it is largely vacant because it is based on a lie.
Mothers are especially hurting. Many times I have cried when I think about the loss of real life connections. I’m not alone in that… I’m open on the subject and so other mothers who feel the same contact me. We cry together. It hurts us. We have a deep desire to be social and to be together. As religion fades, what will take the place of that aspect of religion and church that nurtures this part of being human? Can we be successful in creating community outside that?
Right now – UU’s suck. Humanists community groups suck. I’m just being blunt here…There are rarely children. The speeches they give are so damn boring you want to rip your own ears off. They aren’t age diverse. They have no real sense of how to bring people into the community. They aren’t specific to the areas or defined enough. They simply make it so open that it alienates. Yes, that is possible.

Tub Deep. Mutlifaceted Shit.




Sometimes purging your mind of harmful events is the only way you can judge whether you're fully healed or ready to heal... Or at least have come to a point where you feel ready to begin the process. I'm not sure where I'm at... I just know I've reached a pivotal step - of something. I revealed to a friend, I hope - something I had previously not wrote on or told to anyone,  for me it was an admittance my fathers words still had heavy impact on me as as an adult. It was a defeat in my mind - a disclosure about how broken I truly was at that point in my life, very well may still be, and always have been. Still I go over why events have happened to me - and how I responded. I'm tedious and brutal - an abuser of self. I'm in constant doubt as to knowledge and what I perceive as being the right choice/conclusion.

The revelation ...

Not only did my father make me take bleach baths as a child (which I have spoke on) while telling me how dirty I was for being a girl, for my mother being a whore ...

I did it to myself as an adult.

These occurred during the time I was having sexual relations with a person for whatever reasons. I reached points so low of self esteem; shame for being weak and what I perceived as being filthy, that I went home, and bathed in bleach, then cried. I couldn't wash the filth from me. It wasn't morality or guilt over any other thing than self. I was so racked with self hate and contempt that I became the little girl again and tried to wash away what I felt was filth, my filth. The filth that "daddy" always told I'd be - a whore. Women were dirty, and I had acted a dirty woman. I've been very much ashamed, or shamed of my sexuality my whole life. I had sporadic sexual interest - but mostly "asexual." I tend to pick partners in which sex will not be a focus within the relationship. Times when I've had sexual interest, it's been devastating to my sense of self esteem ... I drank and diluted my senses into oblivion and did things that were totally opposite of me - the mirrors reflection was much more desirable than the woman the image came from. This had been a truth even in my adolescence and something my therapist had spoken to me on- always with me adamant that I could fix myself. I survived many things, and didn't need anyone to fix me - I could do this alone.

The baths told me different. For the longest time I wouldn't even acknowledge what I did those nights- those moments when I was her again.  

These memories trickle to the surface often. Too often. 

denied


 At first I was amused that Moore Sr. (my father) was so potent, and being obviously successful with woman beating magnetism he instantly impregnated the easily infatuated. I imagine how manly, and virile they found him to be whilst never holding a job; thinking women were to be subservient to him and his interesting way of thinking himself a higher life form. He was a god unto himself - he worshiped daily at the temple known as a "drug dealing, woman and child trafficking piece of shit"...This temple name has some fucking punch to it, eh? He mesmerized my known siblings - despite the fact his legacy of dysfunction is readily viewable in his criminal, and drug using children, including their mental health issues. A criminality and abuse that has trickled even into his grandchildren. Nothing deserves glamorization as much as man who made a living off drugs, public assistance and pimping... His redeeming quality was that he kindly allowed the addicts he created to sell their genitals under his management. A real gents' gent... Something you prop up as a model of manhood, but only for the manliest of men. Being forgiven his transgressions against us, and humanity in general, his weak minded offspring made him into a harmless old man. One I needed to forgive or stop lying on - dependent on which sibling you talk to.

Recently they really angered that violent cunty cunt within me...  They gave him more dignity on his deathbed than they did our mother - the woman he beat and had raped on the floor of a basement. The woman he pistol whipped - forever giving her nose that slant look. The same mother who walked in rain, sleet or snow to get to a job where she was treated as third class. The woman who repeatedly throughout our lives had taken us in, paid our bills, bought our children diapers and food. She didn't  get 1/4 the respect that worthless husk of nothing got. She was never even given the respect of believing what he did to her. This was evident by her intellectually stunted son - with the capacity of a 5 year old, who was never able to accept her fear of him. He clung to the idea they'd be together again, because it was love. Destined. Never-mind the fact she pissed on herself at times when he pulled up in their yard. She was too ashamed to tell them that, she told me... It fueled my hate. She never told the rest anything because she knew they were enamored by him. She only had her family really - eventually they all faded away from her too. He has that effect on those he carefully crafted a fake nostalgia with, and those mentally compromised- both of those tethered. Some are so removed from emotion they act like her life was some distant unrelated string of events. Somehow his age and subsequent role as grandfather herofied being a pimp and drug dealer became worthy of forgiveness, and I'm the bitch for not giving him what he always wanted - to have Vicky, our mother, be given less.

Less respect.
Less love.
Less acceptance.
Less loyalty.

In the end he got all that from them - he won through them. I knew that never winning me would hurt him the most. I looked like her ... I represented her in his mind. I didn't give him what he wanted. I told her I wouldn't - I kept my word. Daughters who love their mother do ...

Denied motherfucker. Denied.













Things I accept.


Things I accept.
Passively.
Aggressively.
Sadly.

I will never have sisters or brothers to go grow old with...I will never know what it means to sister whisper or to look into my siblings eyes and feel that connection of,  "here is where I belong."

Not because I don't have any - I have many. There are many of us- the us he created. We're all broken; isolated; fearful; distrusting... Us. The us that can't soften, nor bend ...  Nor reach to one another. That would be weakness. That would be certain emotional ruin. I've breathed that poison most my life, its thickness nearly drowned me. Always pulling me under,  then in ... I barely knew me from her and her from me. Was it me?

The Button.

Truth is - I fucking hated that wooden button. That button was a gash - a bleeding infection that never ceased to ooze its contents onto my innocent hands. No child should ever  have to fucking cope with those wounds... I know this now.  I no longer have the wooden button, I let it go when I let them go.
We were tangled, pitiful... always mourning a childhood we never had. He made everything sick. No one knew - except her, the mother, who was so far from reality at times, I often thought her a dream. A figment of my imagination. Her drunkenness and need for male attention seeped into the kisses she gave me; the songs she sang me.

I loved her still. 
I didn't know the wrong in it all, or know the life long pain it would cause me - cause them, even if their exposure was minimal. He left his scent on us...

Things I accept.
Passively.
Aggressively.
Sadly.

I will never know the feeling of loving a sibling as I love myself.







homeless

Amandine Van Ray




curious at my own change
validating the harsh sense of self
feeling lesser than what I am
 tho I am loved so strongly by him
still struggle to see my worth
he assures me of abundance
yet I feel bankrupt
empty pocketed and sitting
on cardboard boxes beneath vents
to grip their warmth in my skin
admittedly I like my coldness 
the frigidness of my protective veneer
keeps me from cracking deeper by
the pressure of unwanted emotion

forgotten doll


I'll lie there with you ...
Look into my reflection from the glint in your eye,
The girl I was, time has made me no more...
I'll whisper, "I don't care...that sweet little lie made me smile."
We'll talk about what never was - like long lost friends ...
Embrace-but awkwardly, I don't fucking know you anymore.
You can pick at my threads, watch me unravel ...
Flick my skin and see my layers ripple...
I'd let you do anything- just as I let you do nothing ...
I'll be silent as you decide to where you'll lay me ...

Until we do this all over again.

I don't fucking know you anymore... But I'll still wait - because I once did.

A Virtuous Lie



 parts my lips
tempts my tongue
bitten
stricken
but not purged
unchallenged within
a merciless criticism
silence is tolerant
I am no longer a child

Prayer of The Human Condition



Stopping to ponder on insecurities, I found my own coalescing and threatening mutiny. I've grown bored of my usual haunts. Stretched beyond what my mind can conjure 
interest. Where there once was fertile soil, now barren fields of apathy go on as far as the mind can perceive. Ghosts forever taunt me; forever are in misery of every loving thought I hold. They sleep in my shadows, lie in my bed, burrow next to my cold skin. Fluted music, melody once as sweet to me as nectarines, have soured in my ear, in my throat … In my heart.

Here, wrapped in my anonymity, forcibly restrained by my own frailties. Bound are my feet by birth; my hands by class; my will by the servitude of my sex.

I am nothing more than a servant, humbled to thee by chance- enshrined in memory of none. Lost in my wander, feverishly beckoning to those who pass me by. 

See me for what I am not, not what I am. Want for what I am not, not what I am.

Let me glisten under light not found by common experience. Let me dance in the rain not fell upon spoiled ground. 

Do not let me languish or despair my circumstance. Keep me from brushing into mires of thorns; words  of brutal sacrifice; in feelings of inequity. Let me reflect upon me as a smile... A casual touch of warmth or even slight glint of eye.


hand-me-down


                                                                                              Wyatt Mills





Scents, words, a scene
My mouth is moving
the voice isn't mine
It is his
I'm not running
I'm still; flat against the earth
My ears pound 
The struggle to fade into the surrounding sand
Can't sink deep enough though... not to disappear 
Silence
Silence becomes a sentence of infinite time 
It never fucking goes away. 
Like clay, I'll reform myself into a ball, firm and smooth
My feet get so fucking weary of this same 
This road that never seems to fucking ever end 
 "Fucking" becomes the only word that I can FUCKING say 
 I've been a FUCK because I didn't think I had worth
 A garment
 A hand-me-down 
 No longer valued; worn
Those around you become facilitators 
Of self abuse
DIDN'T
you see that I was broken 
I watched as you stepped over the pieces of me 
You turned back, selfishly, to bend and take
Cast down; unwanted
No parts of me were salvageable