I don't believe in God, I believe in Charles Darwin
because what God would let kids in Africa become so thin?
What kind of God would have people discriminate because of skin?
We all share the same blood
so why don't we all just get along and roll in the mud?
Instead of getting engulfed in society like a flood.
**** is wrong and that's a ******* fact
So why don't we wait for a yes before we act?
She wasn't begging for it when she was sexually attacked.
It was because of ****
that are just a waste of egg and ***
you're so ******* dumb
You make me suicidal
if we're counting straws this is the final

**** being an example, I'd rather be a warning
Because while you're bored in Heaven I'll be in Hell burning
While you're growing up I'm just a punk forming
so I can join in on the rioting and storming
**** the government
and tell them they can get bent
just because I'm not Heavensent
and I don't believe
don't pray for me or grieve
because I'm not just an average steve
or Adam
Christians are just members of a huge fandom
God didn't do ****, everything is random
For respect I won't ask, but I'll demand them
give it to me
and let me free
unlike you
but I can be a decent human being too
I'm not a sheep or fat cow so I won't baa or moo

So,
I may have gotten a bit drunk last night,
(See previous entry).
It seems I haven't handled my madness,
It seems I'm still suspended.

Between adulthood and childhood is a very unpleasant place to be,
If only I handled life like I handle liquor.

Each drop is a knife in the cerebellum,
Hoping it might bury the feelings,
How lucky the asexual are.

How lucky,
And how belabored I am to bear a mind like this!

Lost,
I've always been at home where I'm lost.

Now,
I'm wrapped in it.
Surrounded by it.
Penetrated by it in the most euphemistic kind of way.

Thoroughly,
It encapsulates me,
The ether of burden,
A treasure I wish I could share,
Ashamed that I wish I care.

Voices will tell me,
Shouting!
"You'll do great things, a smart boy like you."
"You've been so blessed by God."
I'm in a void of pride in a sea of aimless ambition,
To do the great,
To conquer the world,
To see the fuel of my turmoil turn to ash.

Angst would be sugarcoating it,
Anger will never describe how it feels,
To be simultaneously empty and full.
I'm at grief like a fly at a summer picnic.

I fly off the potato salad,
Off the handle,
It's thrilling to be at the mercy of giants,
Swatting hands.

Nothing seems to heal.
Nothing seems to calm,
Nothing can make up for losing God like losing a family member you never talked to.

And you wish you did,
Because life would be so much easier.

G-d knows I have tried
but he did nothing to help me.

I met my father at the end of the world
in a soundless meditation;
the still waters surrounded us
on some obsolete island,
but he could offer me nothing
apart from the same watery smile
I find in the mirror each time I drink.

Love came to me once
but I never felt worthy of it.

Since then, human touch was reduced
to formulaic platitudes;
a handshake from unerring acquaintances
and embraces from old friends
that always end too soon.
It is hard to be kind to yourself
when your bed is resolutely vacant.

Words may come to comfort others
but I am tired of hearing my voice.

Self-worth was lost to cigarette butts
and a loose grip on my sanity;
tasteless food sits in my mouth
and I can no longer appreciate
the fruits of privilege and shelter.
I am shielded from the rain
but the winter still finds me.

G-d knows I am doing my best.
It never quite seems enough.

One does not question the holy
This sick sacrament of self-sacrifice is not holy
Dark filthy ****** mess of holy man
Thorny fool
This is not holy

*** and sweat
Dripping wet
With physical pleasure
Understanding
Educational leisure
That is better than holy

Compassion and wisdom
Built from shared experience
Creating empathy
Like blood pumping vessels
This is better than holy

Patience for others
And a little for myself
Intolerance for the arrogance of war
This is better than holy

Robed men and camouflaged faked heroes
Petulant posers and wealthy heirs
Are not the high end ******* that we should smoke

Scholars and philosophers
Scientists and healers
Teachers and firemen
They are heroes

In reality the holy
Is just some mystic *******
Fake flesh and blood
Ritz crackers and grape juice
Some cryptic fascist leftover symbolism
To cow the masses in uneducated awe
**** that *******

From humanity’s infancy
We whispered a plea
Then came a hopeful howl

Crushed by the infinite
Beyond the grasp of reason
We cried out to the darkness

Stumbling babies
Longing for a father
Mumbling morons

The stars were there
But the night was bare
Father

Mercy a comforting delusion
Tenderness and purpose
Warm blankets

We wept for something
We never even had
For a father

Fear and tears
For the almighty being
The king of all those
Smitey things

In the night many thought
We heard him reply
We justified the lie
For a fake father figure
In the scary dark sky

The struggle is futility
Patient people play the part
Of impartiality

The wiser are restraint
Castigated for their intelligence
Castrated by their class

A classless struggle we abide
Poor children barely manage
To survive and seldom thrive
Not given access to the tools
Of excellence

But we wield the sword of obsolescence
Antiquated ideas put on the same level as
Modern machines and moral philosophies

Broad language discarded for
The disinfected nature of stupidity

Our language is censored
And free thought is crippled

Thus to succeed we must
Write to their level of understanding
So they can understand it

Which means we do not expect grandness
From the masses
That we underrate what they are capable of

The papacy’s power is palatable but detrimental
The Popes presence sends his parishioners
In to servitude as they submit to the
Sublimation of their identity

Unable to identify the truth from the lie
Unable to separate the flock from the I
I become the villain
For stating these things

So I drop names like Darwin and Thomas Paine
I wear the scarlet letter of poet and philosopher
Of Supplicant to science, Of literate romantic

I the son of Percy Bysshe Shelley
The son of Twain and Poe
The Son of Shakespeare and Baudelaire  
The son of logic and poetry
The lost ******* of peace, love, and understanding

I leave the eve of man’s ill behavior
To see the seething corps of corpses
Rise in ignorance strive for pestilence
With hopeful hate in their eye
To perpetuate the self-fulfilling prophecies
Of all types of apocalypses

But in the end it will be I that am despised
Thus if I must be hated then at least
Favor me with this tiny justice

Like Galileo, Giordano Bruno, and Copernicus
I will wear chains well earned
There is so much knowledge to be had
So learn, live, love and then learn some more

I don’t encourage the courage it takes to blow up a building
Or respect those who expect blind obedience
The factories that distill human suffering for profit
The gasses and poisons that are toxic
The philosophies and doctrines that make humans compliant
To higher authorities without reason and logic
People becoming socially caustic
When compassion is traded for competition
And the fit don’t survive cause the trick is
This sickness is a symptom of human corruption
Greed infecting and spreading hatred and resentment
Neighbors aren't neighbors but gladiators in the pursuit of success
Better cars, better houses, better jobs, better spouses
Denied contentment’s peaceful breath
Tricked into thinking we get more than this width and breadth
So it’s okay to play at barbarity to dress up the bombs with flags and prosperity
And our masters have the right to decide who we should and should not fight
After all even though we were deluded we colluded with our own oppressors
While they trade secrets with our supposed enemies
Sell weapons to allies turn allies to adversaries
And even though we think we chose this
We the people did not accept this sort of justices
We did not vote on this democracy, we the ill-informed masses
Illiterate in the true art of classes and rich distinctions
Of those who seek their own advancement not our improvement
Corporate sociopath with little empathy for the welfare of others
Smother our sister and brothers under the cover of complacency
And what really bothers me is that I am just as much to blame
I coat our pain in pretty words thinking pettily that I am helping
But in the end I am only helping myself feel better for doing **** near nothing

I was always the atheist who capitalized the G.

The girl in the back of the choir wondering why we never sang about Her.

Fretting over Anne Frank's place in a Catholic heaven,

I left God like a lost childhood friend.

We had one too many arguments.

Differences, in opinion.