.i never could find atheism satisfying, atheism being nothing more than anthropocentrism; it's nothing more. well, hell, back to the old model dispute: geocentric vs. heliocentric models... why wouldn't atheism be a thesaurus entry on the synonym level, and not be akin to anthropocentrism? pulling out balloons out of my *** like a clown... it later becomes something less inclined to a "dispute" about a "god" or "the gods"... man is still over-powered in instances where his superiority is critically diminished... the biological version of the botanic construct of mistletoe: which is the equivalent  of cancer... i always felt inclined to suspect the pop atheists... or the fact that insects, akin to ants, bees, termites, have a language dedicated to telepathy, just because they're small, doesn't imply that they're not "big"... there are rumours, that humanity wants to achieve a form of telepathy, rumours, nothing to get worried about... would i pray? no... i'd much prefer to study... but i am left dissatisfied with atheism: simply because it's pride in the anthropocentric argumentation... there's a fine line between anthropocentrism, atheism, and egoism... the "rational" cue would probably be associated with something akin to: the horrors of suspect... that beneath all the rituals of faith, there's a thinking contigency of suspicion... i rarely found someone who simply did-away with that fleeting sense of suspicion... and if i am suspect: this whole "thing" is suspect... the shackles of trust... what, akin to the laws of gravity? the creeping ontological predictability of general human affairs, akin to mating and dating? oh they're there... sure, and the sun will rise tomorrow, and this night will pass, these are no more laws of physics, as laws of trust... beneath which... gambling upon the predicament of the unfathomable, which is equal, to gambling upon the predicament on the already fathomable... i didn't exactly convert to judaism: i can't... if they circumcised me, i'd bleed to death... the best i can do is play the role of a ****** with a predicament, the nag hammadi library was unearthed... in egypt... and i became crushed by the gospel of st. thomas... that part where jesus takes thomas aside, and tells him something, thomas goes back to the rest of the disciples and they ask what was said, and he replies: if i told you... you'd stone me... right... so christianity boiled down to playing a game of ******* chinese whispers: he said, she said?! i guess that reaction was inevitable... given i already became a catholic apostate having read some gnostic works, and never became confirmed... well, it's like i was given a choice over my baptism, but with regards to confirmation? yeah, i took that **** seriously, even if i wanted i couldn't get a church wedding... i haven't been confirmed.

faux pas, "god"...
                   and all that non-existing
prayer "gone to waste"...
well...
    not really...
           blurry lines...
the sensible atheistic argument...
not when the argument is arrived at
from... a disposition of fear...
    rather than claiming some insightful
bias...
            suicide? tried that once...
hanging from a tree...
             the tree ended up being
chopped down...
but... strangely replanted
itself in my neighbour's garden...
now i watch it grow,
arch and cast a decent amount
of shadow...
                      if i'll have a dream,
i'll write it down,
   but i guess, most of the time,
            i'm plagued with "dreams"
of the grand void...
                an abyss that eats me,
where no images pass,
   no narratives...
                  no yesterday akin
to that story of paul mcCartney...
   no, just the sleep,
        and the grand void...
       apparently i groan and moan
in my sleep,
       i couldn't tell you...
              but i can tell you that
the "dreams" become so violent that
i am thrown out of bed
and end up waking up on the floor...
is it associated with the alcohol
consumption?
            perhaps... probably...
will i stop?
                     stop what?
                          it's this weird
assurance from a deity...
                        concerning suicide -
an unconscious fear
                                        of non-being...
tell that to someone who is
easily susceptible to a dream like water
infiltration process...
          "dreams" or rather: a lack of...
a momentary lapse into the figurehead
of ego in charon's empty head...
            groaning and being thrown
out of the bed, landing on the floor...
         i was right about
        the high blood pressure
genetic inheritance...
    how quickly that balloon head feeling
of an explosion disappeared
                      one mid-afternoon
               when i came off the pepsi...
talk about the aspect of the body
replying with an in-built barometer
                      faculty...
    old people always complain
about the atmospheric pressure
         doing a sadistic circus on their well-being
with regards to bones,
    and other body parts...
high pressure...
atmospheric high pressure and
they feel like ****...
   now take this and invert it onto
a canvas of high blood pressure...
      for once,
          beyond the headache sensation
of a brain - rarely felt -
   as if: the brain trying to find
an exit, and merge itself with
    a mind - that component of translating
brain, and the posit of a body
as a soul...
                headache: knock-knock...
body: who's there?
      headache: brian, he's going mental!
i guess the 1st tier of understanding
is gastronomical...
the 2nd tier being philosophical...
the 3rd tier having something to do
with all the current psychological constraints
and predictors...
         but the sort of "ache"
associated with high blood pressure...
brain turns all swiss cheese sponge
b'ah-b'ah...
                  the jaw dumbs,
   the tongue cannot be placed comfortably
in any position in the closed mouth...
and the teeth start to itch...
   not even chewing gum helps;
as ever...
             does it matter what i've written,
or does it matter, how i've written it?