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Big Elder is watching.....
In The Beginning...
In the beginning there was darkness... I think I'll just chill right there for a while. Light is overrated. Especially when groups and institutions like Church, Religions, and BYU are what society considers "light."
Ok, hold up. I'm getting ahead of myself, here. Let me start from before... Before I was a Peter Priesthood, Book of Mormon wielding Latter Day Saint. Before I had left "the church" to join and follow a cult. Before I was brainwashed. Before I was Christian and before I was Atheist. Before I was married, before I was going through a divorce, and before I was a father. Before I lost my virginity to some random girl in college so that I didn't have to go on a mission. Before I believed I was a blood descendant of Jesus Christ, and long before I believed Jesus was really just a made-up fictional character... Back when I was a virgin.
Im not just talking about sex here. True, at the time I'm thinking of I'd never had any physical contact with the female body beyond bumping elbows or "acidentally" rubbing my booty against a girl's. But that's not what I mean. I was a virgin. I didn't know anything. I had no experience whatsoever. No Church ever had a chance to manipulate their way into my heart, make me fall in love with them, and lead me into an emotionally abusive relationship. I was a virgin.
As a kid, I never went to church. My parents were both inactive members of the LDS belief system (you know, the Mormons), but they never once talked about Mormons or church or Jesus. Although my sisters and I were trained extensively in the art of pretending nobody is home when the Missionaries come-a-knockin'. We did, however, have a picture of Jesus hanging up on the wall from as far back as I can remember. It was a famous one, I don't remember who painted it, but that's the picture right there. I remember thinking he looked like a chick with a beard. Kinda femmy. But for some reason that painting always had me scared shitless. I remember hearing on TV, something about how "He is always watching" and "You are never alone." I thought the picture was possessed with Jesus' spirit and he was always looking at me through the eyes of the painting. Even though his eyes were looking upward and it was more of a profile shot, I swear to God his fucking eyes would move and look at me walking across the room. I can't tell you how many nightmares this picture caused. To this day, pictures of Jesus scare the living shit out of me. Every Goddamn one of 'em.
That's where it really started. With that picture right there. My descent into dissent against Religion started when I was 6 or 7 years old. With a picture of Jesus. Eventually, when I did find a home in the Mormon church I tried to tuck away those fearful thoughts. But when I couldn't get rid of them, I just convinced myself what I was feeling was the fear of God talked about in the Bible. But that fear never went away. In Sunday school discussions about what makes us afraid, I could never bring myself to tell my teachers that Jesus made me piss my pants. So I talked about my fear of clowns and nuns instead...
That was the beginning. Seems like a logical place to start telling the story of my journey from a Church-less, innocent little boy, to an all-out obnoxious, churchy Mormon, to a wacko, brainwashed, fundamentalist cult member, on to an Athiest heathen. It's been quite a long journey, my friends. And its going to take quite long time to tell the story. If you are still reading this I can only assume you are somewhat interested in what leads up to the event of someone leaving the church without getting struck by lightning. Maybe you're sitting on the fence yourself, and just want to know that there is someone else out there who feels the same way. Maybe you're a spy sent from the Church to investigate Cyber-Terrorists and you've pinned me down as an enemy to the Church. I won't deny that. But you can kiss my ass if you think I'm gonna sugar coat my story with flowers and trees. I keeps it real, biatches. So continue to check back here as the saga continues.
-Elohim's Bastard
Ok, hold up. I'm getting ahead of myself, here. Let me start from before... Before I was a Peter Priesthood, Book of Mormon wielding Latter Day Saint. Before I had left "the church" to join and follow a cult. Before I was brainwashed. Before I was Christian and before I was Atheist. Before I was married, before I was going through a divorce, and before I was a father. Before I lost my virginity to some random girl in college so that I didn't have to go on a mission. Before I believed I was a blood descendant of Jesus Christ, and long before I believed Jesus was really just a made-up fictional character... Back when I was a virgin.
Im not just talking about sex here. True, at the time I'm thinking of I'd never had any physical contact with the female body beyond bumping elbows or "acidentally" rubbing my booty against a girl's. But that's not what I mean. I was a virgin. I didn't know anything. I had no experience whatsoever. No Church ever had a chance to manipulate their way into my heart, make me fall in love with them, and lead me into an emotionally abusive relationship. I was a virgin.
As a kid, I never went to church. My parents were both inactive members of the LDS belief system (you know, the Mormons), but they never once talked about Mormons or church or Jesus. Although my sisters and I were trained extensively in the art of pretending nobody is home when the Missionaries come-a-knockin'. We did, however, have a picture of Jesus hanging up on the wall from as far back as I can remember. It was a famous one, I don't remember who painted it, but that's the picture right there. I remember thinking he looked like a chick with a beard. Kinda femmy. But for some reason that painting always had me scared shitless. I remember hearing on TV, something about how "He is always watching" and "You are never alone." I thought the picture was possessed with Jesus' spirit and he was always looking at me through the eyes of the painting. Even though his eyes were looking upward and it was more of a profile shot, I swear to God his fucking eyes would move and look at me walking across the room. I can't tell you how many nightmares this picture caused. To this day, pictures of Jesus scare the living shit out of me. Every Goddamn one of 'em.That's where it really started. With that picture right there. My descent into dissent against Religion started when I was 6 or 7 years old. With a picture of Jesus. Eventually, when I did find a home in the Mormon church I tried to tuck away those fearful thoughts. But when I couldn't get rid of them, I just convinced myself what I was feeling was the fear of God talked about in the Bible. But that fear never went away. In Sunday school discussions about what makes us afraid, I could never bring myself to tell my teachers that Jesus made me piss my pants. So I talked about my fear of clowns and nuns instead...
That was the beginning. Seems like a logical place to start telling the story of my journey from a Church-less, innocent little boy, to an all-out obnoxious, churchy Mormon, to a wacko, brainwashed, fundamentalist cult member, on to an Athiest heathen. It's been quite a long journey, my friends. And its going to take quite long time to tell the story. If you are still reading this I can only assume you are somewhat interested in what leads up to the event of someone leaving the church without getting struck by lightning. Maybe you're sitting on the fence yourself, and just want to know that there is someone else out there who feels the same way. Maybe you're a spy sent from the Church to investigate Cyber-Terrorists and you've pinned me down as an enemy to the Church. I won't deny that. But you can kiss my ass if you think I'm gonna sugar coat my story with flowers and trees. I keeps it real, biatches. So continue to check back here as the saga continues.
-Elohim's Bastard
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