Like a Whore in Church

It has been a long time since I have braved the blog. I go through phases when nothing seems more awful in this world than my blog (I know you understand that). I have realized, though, that when I go a while without blogging, I am substancially less happy. It's time to get happy!

How do I restart this blogging thing? Do I jump straight into religion and politics or ease my way into this with something that is less likely to inspire you to kill yourself?

Religion it is.

So apparently religion is a big deal. Even though I try to ignore its very existence, it keeps being that friend that you really don't like but every once in a while he or she says something really funny and it makes you think that maybe things will be different now so you sleep with him and then you see that, nope, you still don't like him and then you spend all your time being pissed at yourself for being such a whore and then you talk a whole bunch of shit about him because A)it's easy and B) somehow it seems that the more shit you talk about him the less you slept with him and then you feel like a douche so you apologize to him and you rekindle your friendship and then you sleep together again.

Why are all my metephors rooted in sex? That sounds like a metaphor for something.


Why do metaphors exist? Trees give us shade, backpacks give us storage, metaphors give us... blogs. gross.

Religion. Right.

Basically, I went to church this past Sunday. Not only did I go to church... I went to Catholic Church. The ULTIMATE Church. You know? The church that allowed you to pay for forgiveness and the one that burned people at the stake and the one that won't let women lead worship because God is a man with a big dick that drives a loud truck? That one.

And I gotta say something. It wasn't awful. It was like that third time you sleep with someone and you finally start to remember that sex is supposed to be fun and not awkward. Not great, but surprisingly not awful.

I swear I'm not a whore.

I went to church with my roommate, and I really did get stuff out of it. Did I become a Catholic? no. Did I become a Christian? No. What I did do, though, is appreciate the tradition and the beauty of mass. The priest was an idiot. The Bible verses were boring. There was this crazy loud dude behind me that said things in Latin. But I found peace in being in a room (a rather large, rather ornate room) with a bunch of people who weren't arguing, but were at peace. They all felt they believe the same things as everyone else. I mean, people were bored out of their minds at times, but there were striking moments when I could feel the energy in the room get very intense in a very lovely way. My favorite part was the sharing of peace. Everyone shakes each others hands and says, "Peace be with you." How lovely. How lovely. So I shook all the hands around me and smiled and really looked at these people. I felt connected to them.

This is what I'm getting at. When people come together in peace and love, it feels nice. No one was there hating on homosexuals or arguing about Hilary Clinton. It wasn't about that. It was about worship and love. In that sense, church is wonderful. If only society could be so peaceful, quiet, and loving and come together to, to a certain extent, worship this planet and the beauty that surrounds us. In that church on Sunday, there were probably 100 people there, and even though they were mostly Catholic (I was probably the only non-Catholic but maybe not), one must assume they all have different political beliefs and some different specific religious beliefs, as well. Despite that, though, there was no arguing. That is what Relgion should always be.

I plan on going to church with the Reg whenever I don't have rehearsal or a show. It is a great time for me to meditate and bring life back into focus. Maybe it's because I was raised Catholic, but the Catholic Church is so beautiful to me. It feels like home. Too bad I'm going to hell. Hopefully hell looks like a Catholic Church.

If I wasn't offensive, everyone would love me way too much and then I would distract people from Jesus. I'm doing Christians a favor.

Oh. And I really am curious as to the percentage of Christians that know that Jesus wasn't white.

I have much more to say of the non-religious nature but apparently I am still in school and have class in 10 minutes. Why can't class be like the the second-coming of Jesus? Always near but never here.

Peace be with you.
And Also with you.

Amen.