Sean (darksoul) wrote,

  • Music:

If you deny this, then it's your fault.

The Jesus And Mary Chain - Snakedriver

I've got syphilitic hetro friends in every part of town
I don't hate them but I know them I don't want them hanging around
I won't roll my bones for every little girl who gets on down
I got space and space got me I should be selling it by the pound
Ever since I heard the voice I thought I had no choice but then I kissed her
I don't mind if I get broken I don't mind if I get fixed
I don't mind if I'm not spoken I don't mind if I get kicks
If I wake up dead I'll wake up just like any other day
And the photographs of god I bought have almost fade away
Everything just passes by I thought it always would but then I kissed her

My brother and I often discuss the fact that we believe ourselves to be abnormalities amongst the rest of society. Putting aside all of that "everyone is a unique snowflake" garbage, the two of us often wonder how it is we became what we are rather than turning out like most people who grow up under similar circumstances. By all accounts, I should be a wrestling and nascar fan, an aspiring mechanic whose already built a car from parts, dating a girl I met at someone's house while I was high. I should've gone to a regular high school with regular people who learn just enough to get them blue collar jobs. Yet that's not who I became. It isn't due to any special nurturing provided to me by my parents. My dad was neglectful of me, at best. My mom raised me well, but she had 3 other children to take care of (ok, two kids and my dad, but I think he counts), so it isn't as though I was afforded much attention. Television and books raised me. My moral and religious beliefs are an amalgamation of what I absorbed from tales of fiction.

It isn't as though my mother didn't try to provide me with moral guidance. We attended church for several years. The problem was that I wasn't of an age where religion might have appealed to me at that point. She had brought me to the feet of God a few years too late. By this point, I was no longer easily convinced or swayed without compelling evidence to change my opinion. It didn't help that I was encouraged to come to my own conclusions about the world rather than have someone else force their beliefs on me. I accepted Jesus as a man who possibly existed, who, if he did exist, preached love and brotherhood. But as far as the rest of it went, there was nothing compelling to get me to use the Bible as a guide to my moral values. I'd seen enough people claim religion guided them and watched them destroy themselves because of it. "The path to inner peace lies within me, not without," I often told myself until it became a sort of mantra.

I continue to absorb every experience into my outlook on life, no matter how minute. It's either that or I become stale and predictable. The only stale thing I've ever been able to swallow is crackers. None of this explains my brother, of course, though I'm apt to believe that he's a result of idol worship and emulation.

Really, this post had no purpose. I just felt like babbling.

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