Monday, January 4, 2010

It's A Day Part Two

I know that two posts in one day is a little overkill. While I was in the shower, though, I was mulling over my post in my head, and I felt that there were things left unsaid that were important to the topic.
First of all, let me assure the subjective you of something: I do not hate Christians. The majority of them I don't even know well enough to despise as people. What I despise and so deeply dislike is how much they hurt me with their judgement and condemnation, especially since it is so unwarranted and it is not an offense that I have afforded them the opportunity to come to. In the book of Matthew alone, it is stated four times: judge not lest ye be judged also. And you force me to come to surmise the worst of you as you have judged me to be a blight on humanity. So, what comes around goes around. But I do not hate you. I hate what you do to me.
Sometimes I feel like a child who's rattling the bars of its crib, screaming for someone to come get me out- and I hate feeling like that. When I experience all these injustices, it angers me, frustrates me, and I must, must, must let it out.
In sixth grade science class, I had an epiphany of sorts. My teacher was explaining to us how a rainbow 'happens'- and it's a divinely scientific thing indeed. Every single color is nothing more than a wavelength of energy, and when photons hit these wavelengths, we see colors. Depending on the frequency of a 'wave', we see red, purple, orange....and while they all are significantly different enough to stand individualized, they also stand together and bleed into one another. While she was telling my class all of this, it came to me: this is how people are. We are all significant enough to stand alone, but we weave in and out of each other and create hues. We stand together, we bleed into one another. And I've thought of the mass of humanity in that way ever since.
It pains me when someone bleeds their fear, hatred, and all their ugliness into me. I feel it, and it seeps into me like dye into raw cotton. These people have wrought a terrible reality for themselves and want to spoon feed it to me, and in a way they succeed, though not how they wanted.
I have an adversion to seeping up poison, and thus I avoid these people I speak of as much as I can. I can live and just let live, but they can not, and so we may never peacefully coincide. It's a simple yet monumental wish: people, love your gods and worship them any way you please, and do it whereever you want, but don't leave your trash on my front door. I don't want to deal with it.
In short, I suppose I can surmise it all this way: I wish people would just leave me alone.

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