Listen carefully, everyone.
My family is Christian. That is, my father and my mother and my seven year-old brother are Christians. My father has a Ph.D, and works as an engineer. His maths skills are incredible.
One day, I heard my brother being scolded by my father. I suppose he lashed out violently (again) or something. Apparently, he hit my mother. Or threw something.
My father insisted that he had to apologize. Yeah. I agree. If you hit someone, you either apologize or apologize, or be a stupid and violent little arse. I mean, if you hit someone because you were angry about not getting your way... Which is what my brother did.
So my brother was wailing and screaming and shouting that NO he wasn't ever going to fucking apologize. NO.
Okay so everyone should listen carefully. Or read carefully, whatever.
My father told him that he could apologize to god instead.
...
...
Don't get it?
It means that my brother gets to be a complete arse while thinking that he's resolved of his 'sins'. It means that my brother doesn't get to learn what proper manners is. It means that my brother doesn't have to face up to his actions. It means that my brother DOESN'T LEARN HOW TO BE A DECENT HUMAN BEING.
And you know why? Because my bloody CHRISTIAN father decided that 'god' was a good enough substitute for the victim.
Oh, yes, sure. I'll make sure to become a Christian before I kill anyone, because then I can be resolved of all my sins! If I pray and apologize to 'god', then it's the same as apologizing to my dear dead victim, isn't it??
Here are two things that are pretty obvious from this story.
First: anyone who claims that god will erase your sins if you pray is just a coward and looking to save his own skin (well, he thinks he's saving himself). If your victim, or your victim's family if your victim is dead, doesn't forgive you, then you're still a sinner. And even if they forgive you, you're still a sinner.
Not that I'm preaching. I don't care if you're a sinner. But the point is, don't go around deluding yourself and dismissing everyone else's feelings.
What would the parents of the dead children from the Sandy Hook shooting feel, if the murderer 'converted' to Christianity and went around proclaiming that he's a clean man? He thinks god has erased his sins, but the children are still dead, and he's still a murderer.
So you can believe in Jesus and help out gays, lesbians, and homeless abandoned animals. But don't be an asshole and say that Jesus forgives everything. Yeah, Jesus forgives everything, but that little kid you bullied back at high school hasn't forgiven you. Are you going to dismiss his opinion? Because then you might as well just go to your Christ right now. You aren't doing this world a favour.
Second: Christians teach weird fucking shit to their vulnerable children. Even if you don't tell your child that "all is forgiven because of Christ"
(By that way, that's called teaching them how NOT TO BEAR RESPONSIBILITY FOR THEIR OWN ACTIONS.)
You're still telling your children to pray to a dude who crucified himself to save the world, when he could have just prayed to his daddy and asked him to erase all sins, forever.
Crucifixion is too fucking bloody for most children under ten. I didn't feel okay for years after I found out that Jesus had nails poked through his hands and feet. (That was when I was seven.)
And then a few years later I found out that crucified people die of asphyxiation. Apparently your hands aren't made for holding up your body weight, so you sink lower and lower until you can't breathe, and then you die.
This is not good for mental health. Praying to this person is not good for mental health. If god couldn't or didn't care enough to spare his own son the agony, then what makes you think he cares about you?
...
...
So this whole Christianity deal is fucked up. The only kind of Christians I can accept are the ones who don't use the bible as a shield for their sexism, anti-choice stance, anti-LGBTQ stance, or anything at all. And they also shouldn't "leave it up to god". But then they shouldn't be called Christians. They should just be called very responsible people who happen to be theists.
Basically the only thing in the bible that is clear and makes sense is "god helps those who help themselves". It's basically a confidence booster to theists, and a message that they should get off their sorry arses, stop praying, and DO SOMETHING.
I mean, if you care enough to ask your god to change his divine plan, then you care enough to do something to help, right?
I care, but not enough run off to Africa right now, because first I can't and second I can't do anything to help anyway. But I do donate.
If you pray and don't even donate, then you are a very bad person. A very bad person!!! You're not even as good as a morally lacking sixteen year-old who doesn't even care that much.
...
...
Telling your child that god forgives his sins even though his victims doesn't forgive him is called BAD PARENTING. And you are basically ruining his moral compass.
1 February 2013
like, past posts with pathetically hilarious stuff
So yes I was looking through my old blog posts and surprising they didn't make me facepalm. I mean, yeah, I was a whiny bitch but I still am a whiny bitch so not much has changed.
What did surprise me was the fact that I used some strange phrases that turned out to be quite hilarious. So here are a few.
Am not sure if my sense of humour is dysfunctional, please send chocolate to aid in treatment of dysfunctional sense of humour if it is the case.
What did surprise me was the fact that I used some strange phrases that turned out to be quite hilarious. So here are a few.
Am not sure if my sense of humour is dysfunctional, please send chocolate to aid in treatment of dysfunctional sense of humour if it is the case.
31 January 2013
.
I was under the impression that we go to school to get an education. Instead all I learned was how to pacify teachers however you can, because that's how it works. You bribe people to get something in order to get something else that you need. Thanks for the life lessons. I can't say I've learned much from school, but at least I've learned how to beg.
Re: homesickness
When I was younger, I used to feel homesick. The last instance of homesickness I remember was during my thirteenth or fourteenth year.
When I felt homesick, I'd usually have an intense longing to be with my parents. I'd hug my mother and snuggle into bed beside her. I'd make her hug me (she wasn't very keen on hugs).
Sometimes I'd even feel homesick at home, so maybe it was just me missing my parents.
Anyway, I stopped feeling homesick some time ago. I stopped wanting that security blanket a long time ago. (I'm sixteen, bear with me. Fourteen was a long time ago.) I gather that my parents' presence was something along the lines of "you can stop worrying, we're here for you". But some time during 2011, it disappeared.
I didn't feel homesick. I didn't want my parents around. Instead I felt intensely, abjectly lonely, and thought that there'd never be anyone who would understand me as well as I would like them to... And if there was someone like that, I'd be completely creeped out. And that exacerbated the loneliness, really.
I didn't really think my my house as "home", not really. It was a place. I lived there, my parents lived there. There's a kitchen, three bedrooms, two bathrooms and a living room. I slept in my room.
That's it. I didn't think about the house in a sentimental way at all. It was all very pragmatic. I wasn't at all like those romantic heroines in old books, swooning and sighing over the meaning of "home" and whatnot. I just didn't care.
Slowly, that apathy extended to my parents. They gave birth to me, took care of me, gave me money and fed me. I was fond of them. I would be terribly upset if they died. Though I'd definitely move on fast enough. No point in mourning someone who can't appreciate it. What would be inconvenient was how I'd deal with being an orphan. Money? Parents? Where would I stay?
And then that apathy crept into my general life philosophy, not that it's a real philosophy. It's subject to changes, quite often. Anyway, I wasn't really prone to feeling deep emotions. For anyone, really. I alternated between being irritated by life, and being fond of the adorable friends I have. Compared to anger and love, that's pretty mild. I guess it's because I didn't want to hurt my feelings if we parted ways.
Yeah. I'm mostly concerned about myself.
I think nihilism comes close to describing my philosophy. Life was kind of... plain, sometimes, and if it had been easy to die, I think I would have done it. But it wasn't easy so I sort of drifted along.
I'm not even sure why I stopped feeling much (though I'm prone to bouts of melancholy, like crying over fanfiction and movies and sometimes just because I felt like crying) but looking back I think it was because of my parents.
I didn't see them that much every day, and their involvement in my life steadily decreased. I simply stopped needing them around. You know how babies need to be held up at first? But slowly they start standing by themselves. I think that's what happened with me.
In fact, we grew so distant that a year or two later, when they began involving themselves with my life again, I became irritated and resented their intrusion.
Let's have a break. I have to tell you about two very annoying habits that my parents have.
My mother criticizes everything I like. Just last night, when I told her "she sings well" (referring to Hyorin, a Korean idol) my mother started talking about how idols were only useful when they're young, how a pretty song can't fill your stomach, and all sorts of sour, bitter things. And then when I got angry, she had the gall to say that she hadn't said any unpleasant things.
My father likes to laugh sarcastically when he talks about serious things with me. When my teachers call him, or when we talk about schoolwork, sometimes he'll furrow his eyebrows in reply to me, and then he'll give this half-sigh half-laugh, like he thinks I'm really stupid and I'm so stupid that he doesn't even have the words for it.
Those two habits make me unhappy. More than that, they make me angry. I get really really angry. Those two habits of theirs never fail to make me angry. I suppose, consciously, I think things like "why can't you just appreciate things" and "can you just fucking tell me what it is".
But subconsciously I think I'm angry because those actions undermine my self-confidence and self-worth. I don't like talking to them because talking to them make me feels like a piece of shit stuck onto a pig's butt. In two seconds I am downgraded from a human to a piece of manure. No one endures that kind of stuff willingly.
And so I guess that's why I became really distant from my parents. They still make me feel like shit, so lately when they try to speak to me, I can't wait for it to be over. A minute spent speaking to them is a minute wasted, and ten other minutes wasted on calming myself down.
Yes, so I resented their intrusion (we're back to the main point, now).
Talking to them is tense and unpleasant, and more often than not ends in me huddling in a corner with a book or some sort of technology connected to the internet, just to avoid talking to them. Sometimes when I'm stressed with school, it ends with me sulking in my room and sometimes crying a few tears, and then a few more tears because godammit tears are so stupid Helen why are you even crying oh my god you're such a failure.
So I used to feel homesick, but now there's just loneliness, sometimes, and a sort of urgent need to get away from my parents. I don't appreciate being made to feel like shit by my own parents, so homesickness had to go. If I was homesick I might be tempted to seek out the person who frustrates me the most out of everyone on the entire planet. (No it wasn't a conscious decision to get rid of homesickness).
I haven't felt homesick for more than two years. I'm guessing that even adults sometimes feel homesick, like once or twice a year perhaps. But I don't. All I miss are my warm blankets and the days when I can spend all day reading and drinking tea.
I used to feel homesick, when I was younger, but now I guess I'm a bit too dead for such emotions. I think the process of growing up stole my soul or something. Or the process of realizing that my parents where shitheads who didn't even realise they were pushing their daughter away from them, one nasty demeaning remark by one nasty demeaning remark.
When I felt homesick, I'd usually have an intense longing to be with my parents. I'd hug my mother and snuggle into bed beside her. I'd make her hug me (she wasn't very keen on hugs).
Sometimes I'd even feel homesick at home, so maybe it was just me missing my parents.
Anyway, I stopped feeling homesick some time ago. I stopped wanting that security blanket a long time ago. (I'm sixteen, bear with me. Fourteen was a long time ago.) I gather that my parents' presence was something along the lines of "you can stop worrying, we're here for you". But some time during 2011, it disappeared.
I didn't feel homesick. I didn't want my parents around. Instead I felt intensely, abjectly lonely, and thought that there'd never be anyone who would understand me as well as I would like them to... And if there was someone like that, I'd be completely creeped out. And that exacerbated the loneliness, really.
I didn't really think my my house as "home", not really. It was a place. I lived there, my parents lived there. There's a kitchen, three bedrooms, two bathrooms and a living room. I slept in my room.
That's it. I didn't think about the house in a sentimental way at all. It was all very pragmatic. I wasn't at all like those romantic heroines in old books, swooning and sighing over the meaning of "home" and whatnot. I just didn't care.
Slowly, that apathy extended to my parents. They gave birth to me, took care of me, gave me money and fed me. I was fond of them. I would be terribly upset if they died. Though I'd definitely move on fast enough. No point in mourning someone who can't appreciate it. What would be inconvenient was how I'd deal with being an orphan. Money? Parents? Where would I stay?
And then that apathy crept into my general life philosophy, not that it's a real philosophy. It's subject to changes, quite often. Anyway, I wasn't really prone to feeling deep emotions. For anyone, really. I alternated between being irritated by life, and being fond of the adorable friends I have. Compared to anger and love, that's pretty mild. I guess it's because I didn't want to hurt my feelings if we parted ways.
Yeah. I'm mostly concerned about myself.
I think nihilism comes close to describing my philosophy. Life was kind of... plain, sometimes, and if it had been easy to die, I think I would have done it. But it wasn't easy so I sort of drifted along.
I'm not even sure why I stopped feeling much (though I'm prone to bouts of melancholy, like crying over fanfiction and movies and sometimes just because I felt like crying) but looking back I think it was because of my parents.
I didn't see them that much every day, and their involvement in my life steadily decreased. I simply stopped needing them around. You know how babies need to be held up at first? But slowly they start standing by themselves. I think that's what happened with me.
In fact, we grew so distant that a year or two later, when they began involving themselves with my life again, I became irritated and resented their intrusion.
Let's have a break. I have to tell you about two very annoying habits that my parents have.
My mother criticizes everything I like. Just last night, when I told her "she sings well" (referring to Hyorin, a Korean idol) my mother started talking about how idols were only useful when they're young, how a pretty song can't fill your stomach, and all sorts of sour, bitter things. And then when I got angry, she had the gall to say that she hadn't said any unpleasant things.
My father likes to laugh sarcastically when he talks about serious things with me. When my teachers call him, or when we talk about schoolwork, sometimes he'll furrow his eyebrows in reply to me, and then he'll give this half-sigh half-laugh, like he thinks I'm really stupid and I'm so stupid that he doesn't even have the words for it.
Those two habits make me unhappy. More than that, they make me angry. I get really really angry. Those two habits of theirs never fail to make me angry. I suppose, consciously, I think things like "why can't you just appreciate things" and "can you just fucking tell me what it is".
But subconsciously I think I'm angry because those actions undermine my self-confidence and self-worth. I don't like talking to them because talking to them make me feels like a piece of shit stuck onto a pig's butt. In two seconds I am downgraded from a human to a piece of manure. No one endures that kind of stuff willingly.
And so I guess that's why I became really distant from my parents. They still make me feel like shit, so lately when they try to speak to me, I can't wait for it to be over. A minute spent speaking to them is a minute wasted, and ten other minutes wasted on calming myself down.
Yes, so I resented their intrusion (we're back to the main point, now).
Talking to them is tense and unpleasant, and more often than not ends in me huddling in a corner with a book or some sort of technology connected to the internet, just to avoid talking to them. Sometimes when I'm stressed with school, it ends with me sulking in my room and sometimes crying a few tears, and then a few more tears because godammit tears are so stupid Helen why are you even crying oh my god you're such a failure.
So I used to feel homesick, but now there's just loneliness, sometimes, and a sort of urgent need to get away from my parents. I don't appreciate being made to feel like shit by my own parents, so homesickness had to go. If I was homesick I might be tempted to seek out the person who frustrates me the most out of everyone on the entire planet. (No it wasn't a conscious decision to get rid of homesickness).
I haven't felt homesick for more than two years. I'm guessing that even adults sometimes feel homesick, like once or twice a year perhaps. But I don't. All I miss are my warm blankets and the days when I can spend all day reading and drinking tea.
I used to feel homesick, when I was younger, but now I guess I'm a bit too dead for such emotions. I think the process of growing up stole my soul or something. Or the process of realizing that my parents where shitheads who didn't even realise they were pushing their daughter away from them, one nasty demeaning remark by one nasty demeaning remark.
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