Religion/High Noon Dilemma
I become situationally-depressed every time I enter my English class. I’m out of my depth and don’t understand what’s happening. I took the class because my dream job (screenwriter) vaguely involves writing words down, so I figured it would be smart to take the hardest English class at my school centered solely on literary theory. But, grades are entering the gradebook and my essays can’t keep up.
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I am trying to become more self-centered. Center myself. Take control. I don’t know what I am trying to say here. Grounded? I guess. It feels like there are a lot of things coming up in my life, and I don't understand any of it. When I was younger, it was hard for me to process emotions beyond base abstractions of “happy” and “sad” and “fear” and “tired” and “head hurts.” I never evolved beyond that, so now I can barely understand the deeper meaning of anything. Nothing is a sign and everything is just another thing. That doesn't make any sense. Whatever.
During Yom Kippur services today, I had to come to terms with this. Everyone was singing and old people looked incredibly reflective. But all the chants were in Hebrew and I wasn’t given a transliteration. All I could think was, “I probably won’t continue doing this in college.” As in, I won’t continue celebrating Jewish holidays that don’t involve gifts. I couldn’t apply the lessons of the Torah to my life because the signals weren’t screaming in my face. I could get behind a religion that was purely straightforward. If an old monk came up to me and said, “Hey r-tard, you are a cosmic ant in relation to an undisclosed higher power. You can’t ask questions and we have to go now,” I’d pack my stuff and leave.
But that doesn’t exist, so I am an uncommitted agnostic. I feel gross saying that. I don’t want to be like Ricky Gervais talking about religion. Religious people aren't sheep, and nobody is stupid for the way they interpret existence. I just don't know where I should swim in this sea of beliefs. Hah that is kind of a cool metaphor yay me
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I have three High Noons and a Beatbox sitting in my bottom closet drawer. It sucks because I don’t want to drink them alone, but it’s also not enough to host a party with. This is where one could apply the metaphor of Sofie’s choice. Do I feed it to my dog, or get drunk and watch Avatar? Decisions decisions decisions….
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