back from my mental breakdown! it’s been a hot minute

just came back on here to tell you all that God is dead and though we act like this is a wedding and not an eternal bastardly funeral, we collectively have been picking and feeding on the corpse for eons and eons and eons and eons and there’s no helping us or saving us, there’s no big surprise or a gift for you or me or the neighbors or the enemies. We’ve feasted and dined on the very things we call godliness and holy and wonderful and amazing and perfect. but you and i both know God was never perfect. It was never safe or perfect or gentle, and that’s why it’s now rotting as we chew on it. we can pretend and act like we don’t choke, but we do. we’d rather choke than starve. we’d rather bite down and savor this taste. this taste of freedom. that freedom is fake. it never was free, and we know that. you and i and all of the others can shield our eyes and breathe as we are told, but itll never satisfy. it will never be enough. hungry and tired and hurt, we still feast on god, a rotting corpse. a pitiful, disgusting, sad corpse. what a waste. what a shameful waste it is, because it could’ve been something breathtaking. it could’ve healed, it could’ve been everything that we’ve all wanted. but it wasn’t. it can’t be. it never was, and that is the whole joke. the whole big joke that is thrown into our eyes, and we sit there and take it and let it simmer into our eyes and blind us. God’s corpse blinded us, and yet we still feast on it like it will one day scoop out all of the dirt and rocks and glass and hell out of our eyes. this is all a show. A performance. One big, disgraceful performance. We sit and watch, and then jump onto the stage and act as if we could ever win awards for our takes. It will never work like that. We’re starving for it though. That crave will never ever stop, it’ll never ever be enough. and so we eat it, and we pretend to be full. 

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