Nest of Salt

As I was saying, I’ve been placing myself in some ugly situations lately.

I was drunk the other night, and I was thinking about God. I still believe in him and everything, it’s just I feel like he’s kind of like Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny. Something, someone, somewhere made up so that human beings would have a steady reason to maintain a sense of sanity and a set of rules to live by. From the reason there’s life on Earth, to the reason there is an Earth, to guidelines that must be met to impress God so, in the end, our reward will be being welcomed into his golden palace of everlasting life. Then I started feeling guilty. I didn’t know why I was thinking this way, I was almost afraid too. God’s in my head as well as everywhere else, right? So he knows what I’m thinking. How fucking terrifying is that? Don’t get me wrong, I believe in God but I’m starting to believe that fear is what’s keeping my faith alive. I need to start going to church.

Thanksgiving was good up until about an hour ago. My mom’s side of the family was criticizing me like they always do. I’m too “strange,” I’m “gaining too much weight,” I can’t do anything right. I’m either too skinny or too fat, too involved or too absent, too helpful, so much that I’m getting in the way, or simply not helpful enough. This isn’t really how I wanted my day to end but, I’m still counting my blessings. I’m thankful for everything I have, and everyone I have. Honestly. God(?) has blessed me.

These past few days have been… odd??!

I’ll write more later, this was really pointless.