I come from a catholic upbringing. All my family has been catholic to various degrees. Where my mother has always been extremely religious but also strongly against the pious comunity of church goers, my father and the whole line he spawned from was all strongly rooted in extreme catholicness.
Since my mother was an orphan and kept to herself, i was often left to the other side of the family for my upbringing. I was surrounded by a lot of nuns and priests and brought up with the obsessive idea that god wasnt a loving father but a supreme being that watched your every single move, judhed you and mercilessly punished you at the first sign of defiance, mistake, sin or even at the thought of sin.
The nuns told a series of anecdotes that portrayed god as a vicious father who crushed his children with more malevolent hatred than a warlord. And priests who sermonized on how being ill or poor was a way that he had to show his disgust at us.
I remember growing up and starting to avoid the church more and more, seeing how cruel the people there were, believing that i could have a belief like the one my mother had: intimate, strong, quiet and powerful enough to give her something to hold on to in life.
And i remember my grandmother, a vicious cunt of a woman who had piss and venom in her vein and a heart made of coal and rotten shit, saying: "Remember this moment when you will be sick and begging for god'shelp, cause thats when he will ignore you and laugh".
Then i became insane and started devloping manias about god. I thought that i was suffering cause i was a sinner. I tyhoughgt repeating prayers in an ocd way, enever failing, would stop my mother from drinking, my father from being cruel, me from suffering and hearing screaming voices in my head. I had to pray, to believe and never fail cause he was there and judging me.
Then i realized that he wasnt. Life happens. Death happens. I became an atheist. although i had some doubt.
A man with creativity and hopes, with dreams and talent fights for years, sacrificing his time and his relationships to get to this goals. He manages to reach his dreams. He has the woman of his dreams, they love each other. He has everything he always desired. They have a child, healthy and perfect.
Then he gets diagnosed with disease. A bad one. He will have to fight for his life against something that is eating him up from the inside. His child might lose him, his woman too. I want to be there and i have to but i let things roll over. It makes no sense that something like that would hit him at this moment.
A girl with dreams, with an agile body and a huge heart and a life full of promise gets a disease that destroys her ability to be independent, to dance and to be the butterfly she is. It crushes her body but saves her soul so it can witness her own slow demise. Theres hope but its such a long road and all the good comes from people.
Not from the sky. The sky is silent. Fuck your god, fuck your faith and fuck everyone who believes in it and prays and hopes. Whats fair ina young father having to fight for his life so he can see his child grow? Whats fair in a dancer that needs medicines to walk? Nothing.
There is no god, theres only people.
I dont know if thats good or bad but i wish things made sense. And they dont.