i think i might be Jesus…

I AM a living sacrifice. My every thought, action, intention is monitored and managed by some cosmic force that i have no control over…
Who put me here and why? I was happy where i was: with only ‘ nothing ‘ to worry about. No one to tell me i’m wrong, or right for that matter…it made no difference.
To be plucked and replaced this way is death, in the sense that i was already alive when i was in a state of nothingness…
This somethingness has taught me how to lie, cheat and steal. How to fuck my neighbor’s wife when he is away…
and how to understand the abject plight of my birthdeath.
Maybe the one they call ‘ God ‘ in this realm was once what i am now. Can man go on to become god? He already has the traits required; the ability to create life, and the coldness to abort it. But, he’d been labeled inferior by his very creator. Was that to impress a certain feeling of lesser than, to evade mutiny? Religious mutiny, would entail what i’m discussing right now…a turning away. A lack of trust and that all important notion…that linchpin of this entire debacle – faith.

Did he have to live as the human he created before becoming the god? Is this all the massive result of his own self-test? A brilliant race of philosophers, scientists, murderers, free-thinkers and slaves…
What does he do after being the god?…does he stay god for eternity? How long is his eternity compared to ours? A minute?…a trillion, trillion, trillion epochs?
…who is his god?…
What god would blink himself into existence, master a race of inferior beings, stand back and let the whole thing unfold, only to be scolded by a larger more wizened god standing over his shoulder criticising his work?…
Can there be levels of GODdom?…
Let’s take the word ‘ god ‘ …it is an adjective at best…a descriptive word, like red or spongy…
Kurios(lord), HaShem (השם , meaning “The Name”)[funny how it looks like the name den ]…{hence the title of this piece…}

The most common name for God in the Old Testament is Elohim, a plural form, but used as a singular when speaking of God.

So ‘ God ‘ is really Gods.

it makes just as much sense that Earth is God. But that minimizes the rest of the Uni/Multi/Infiniverse, also reducing the notion of ‘ god ‘ , being Omni-something or other…

religion as an idea proves itself to be either:
A). a complete and utter sham, which is nothing more than an effort in futility…
B). a selfish way to get the ‘ god ‘ to keep you by its side…
C). a joke

(joke)…Why’d the human cross the busy road?…(punchline…) to get to the other side…

We become so devout, so affected, that every situation now somehow gets equated to or somehow related to; god, religion, or some kind of weird, cosmic magnetism, which mysteriously waits for us, to stand on the ” X ” before it pulls us in the right direction…
like a god would have nothing better to do…
Doesn’t it make much more sense that the galaxy is God? An insurmountable force, which could swallow whole everything we’ve ever had, or ever will have the technology to discover, in the blink of an eye? That’s omnipotence!! Although, the notion of a galaxy being God, reduces itself being that the universe, is bigger than it. Implying that in this case the god isn’t the be all and all. You have the idea that the god would be the biggest thing out there. Then the universe is the galaxy’s God, also reducing the universe when compared to the multiverse when thinking of it next to the universe.

Then the idea that the multiverse is God is reduced next to the infiniverse, being that the infiniverse is………..https://infiniverse.fandom.com/wiki/Infiniverse_Wiki ……………….

No…not that infiniverse ^^^…what i’m talking about is that i don’t think there’s an actual end to it. Like Truman Show or Terry Pratchett’s Discworld. I find it highly unlikely that you could just come to the wall someday. Oh, ok it ends right here.

No. The sheer algebraicity of that equation, would never end. Pi, x Pi x Phi, x Pi x Pi …

And now you’ve counted to, ” 1 ” …

Now imagine yourself, sipping on some cocoa as you feel your Winter, relaxed in your Monticello, waving at Alpha Centauri from your livingroom window…
The idea that some graying shepherd is watching and pounding his staff on the pasture each time we step out of line, is not. That notion itself is kindergarten compared to the school of thought which gives rise to the sheer algebraicity that must be held within such greatness. The shepherd awaiting his flock equates religiosity with Dr. Seuss. Not to slight Ol’ Doc mind you…
The mythological connotation of it all is laughable.
Take the Greek gods for example…those lazy bastards!
Sit above it all in the clouds, or in your grand temple…skulking in the shadows, critical to the development of your playthings, yet standing in the next room as you preach your spiel…critiquing their progress. When they go against you, in word or deed, you condemn them to a realm of suffering within your own little bubble. Everything must be self-contained for you to realize your potential as omnipotent, omnipresent. Omnivorously infecting their sustenance…everything must be from you, for you, about you if you are to sustain the farce…to suspend the weight of that lie…that untruth, that poison sentence to start the influx of demented notions and boring stories. In a word… planned obsolescence.

If you showed your face, there would be no need to suspend the curtain that hides your true self…the seed, the root, the tissues and ligaments, blossoming into all these pretty trees and lush landscapes you call life. If one of the subjects saw the answers to the test, why would they continue guessing?…
On the other hand, if the test made any sense the participant wouldn’t continue past the first question: they wouldn’t need to. There would be no question, and no need for faith.

If as a human, i am to utilize my brain’s capacity, i should not be denied such a huge quotient of that knowledge. What would be the sense in having such a wonderful creative, self-denying or self-creating machine such as the human brain and not being able to use it to the fullest degree?…
Even as much as we can improve, expand upon the level of intelligence we have at any current point in time…everyone has a different 100%, when it comes to using our brains to 100% capacity. Each capacity is different. Why would our brains have differing levels of retention, intelligence, and common ability?

Why is it that, ” in God’s eyes ” we are deemed fallible before we ever have the chance to try?…
Why do we err?…why do we sometimes not know right from wrong?…and even sadder, the fact that we DO know we’re doing wrong, but somehow expect everyone else to believe us when we feign ignorance…
” To err is human ” …not exactly. To err, is to be what we are, how we were made, how we learn from our mistakes.
To err is one of our greatest gifts. Because we see ourselves on the whole, and see our other faces, which have been hiding while we portrayed the good, honest person we really are. What, or who gives that other face any power at all? We do. Us.

— Religion: the Other Schizophrenia —
There have been plenty of times when i would catch myself, not paying attention to my Self, when i would have to sometimes gently remind myself that i was the one in control of my actions, not the other way around. Other times with quite destructive force, i was skillfully adept at leaving scars as a not so gentle reminder of what i am capable of.
I know it is wrong to steal, yet there have been times when i caught myself unaware of my secret face…my core, a rotten, bruised peach lying in the sun to degenerate into a mushy-pulp of bruised flesh and dried seed…dissipating into thin air…
my other selves, watching in envy of my bravado. My daring hand reaching, reaching…they respected my air of invincibility. My wretched ego, the one thing that still moved me…
the one thing i would throw away, from my box of nothingness and broken dreams…all these torn, tattered plastic shopping bags with all my scraps of paper and refuse from the side of the road…that yellow piece of smashed hard-plastic; the only remnant of a child’s ball…it probably rolled out into traffic, slamming head first into the front tire of a Jeep taking the left onto Winter street.

And now that ball is God. A broken shell of its former existence, when all was power, glory, and a divine kingdom of uncompromising grandeur.
Its other pieces, fragmented and scattered about the street…dejected and alone. Until some hapless wanderer picks it up and carries it in his pocket, placing it on his shelf, next to all the other broken pieces of once great artifacts from a barren civilization of tyrants and forgotten heroes…