hum hum hum

 

Well I’m in New Delhi.  Got interrogated by a family friend last night.  Was actually very eye opening.  When asked, “Would you be fine if your son flips burgers for a living?”  My boyfriend said “As long as they’re happy.” And I think I have never been more proud of him.

As far as religion goes I don’t think it’s necessarily a bad thing that we come from different backgrounds.  I want my kids to understand that people believe different things and that that’s okay. At this point my boyfriend and I believe the same thing (somewhat of a miracle considering we were born on opposite sides of the planet, Eastern vs Western culture), but the interrogator assured us that we’ll eventually want to pin one or the other set of beliefs on our kids.

I just want them to be kind and loving. Which is why I’m still with this guy in the first place… I’ve never met anyone more qualified to be the father to my kids.

And regarding my job. I work at a nursing home. Which to Indians  is apparently the same as wasting your potential and “doing nothing”.

I am the one, when an old lady wakes up at 2 in the morning hollering “WHERE AM I!” I am the one that sits with her until she’s calm enough to go to sleep.  I’m the difference between happy and depressed and I am freaking good at tipping the balance in favor of the former.  THAT is a Real Job. That is an opportunity to make the world better in a tangible way.

It’s too late for my boyfriend to do anything other than be a successful computer engineer.  He’s obligated to do it for his parents, and he wants to make them happy. Well he does like computer engineering.  The obligation part is being successful. I’m glad he doesn’t feel like he has to impose the same thing on his own spawn though.

Sorry babes this might have been a little disjointed.  I have a lot to think about.

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I have to keep working night shifts because I’ve driven home through all these sunrises and I’ve still never seen the sky turn the same colors twice.  Like counting snowflakes till you can pair them up like socks, what does that word mean to you? Eternity.  Pretending our sun is more than just a black hole’s fetus.  I’m ready to be set on fire.  Come on…

better get real real real and realize

falling.  Interesting article in the wake of my  brother’s girlfriend getting an arranged marriage, and of course it’s on my mind a lot because I watch too many Bollywood movies lately..

I’m so in love.  Leaving tomorrow, takes me 22 hours to get to India.

 

 

If you have autoplay on and start watching Clean Bandit music videos you will not regret it.  I know I didn’t.

All Shall Be Made Well

 

The experts on Heaven disagree about which conglomeration of religious believers will qualify, but they always seem to think that they personally belong to that elite group. An eternity with people that conceited seems intolerable to me.

– Robert Anton Wilson, “Cheerful Reflections on Death and Dying,” Gnoware, February 1999

I do understand what love is, and that is one of the reasons I can never again be a Christian. Love is not self-denial. Love is not blood and suffering. Love is not murdering your son to appease your own vanity. Love is not hatred or wrath, consigning billions of people to eternal torture because they have offended your ego or disobeyed your rules. Love is not obedience, conformity, or submission. It is a counterfeit love that is contingent upon authority, punishment or reward. True love is respect and admiration, compassion and kindness, freely given by a healthy, unafraid human being. are golden
 
– Dan Barker, Losing Faith in Faith: From Preacher to Atheist
 
Truly. Almost all of the most kind, loving, joyful people I know are not Christians.  The people I am in straight-up awe of…
Why I can’t believe in hell anymore.
Also the comments on THIS ARTICLE are golden.
 

CONTAINS SWEARS (a warning for my relatives who may read this)

RELATIVES, See TITLE.

In general, I don’t do confrontation well.  I tend to shake in the midst of debates, especially those with people I care about.  I always end up crying when my boyfriend and I fight.

Specific instances though, when I can let a blind rage pour out of my mouth and body…. that is one intense type of a drug let me tell YOU.

_______________________________________

Scene:  The Old Broadway, the only place to dance to :The Hits of Today” in North Fargo.  And I am dancing my FACE OFF.

Jerk grabs my butt and I straight-up see him do it, just reach out like he owns me,  the dancefloor’s freaking empty.

I walk up to him, pinch him HARD in the belly (really let those nails dig in).  And start the tirade, devoid of fear, filled with the rage of the goddess…

“MY BODY.  MINE, ASSHOLE.  I will CUT OFF YOUR DICK.  You CANNOT DO THAT, my dad is a COP” (not sure why I said that, but whatever).

Then I rage-danced for a little while, punctuating any eye contact with pantomiming my fingers as scissors and repeating my manhood  mutilating threat.  Next time I’ll make my eyes go all crazy and say “I’VE DONE IT BEFORE”.

Eventually he tried to say it was an accident after which I swore at him some more and he actually left the dance floor out of shame or awkwardness, who knows.

Felt so good, never had a high like that.  There has been so much rage building up in me for men that think they own me, own woman in general, and can do whatever they want to us.  Sometimes I forget about them, because I have such good men in my own life for friends, family, and of course boyfriend.  But the OB always makes me remember.

I can go into this blind rage for racism and homophobia too, so nice to know I’m not limited.