Loemma

She woke up not knowing where she was or how she had gotten there.  She only knew it was absolutely cold, cold to the bone in fact. Loemma sat up from what felt like a hard cement, beginning to feel her way around looking for any clues to help her understand where she was. Out of nowhere came a WHACK! as she bumped her head into something. Again, she got up while holding the immediate giant bump on her head. Bricks! She found a brick wall. Loemma then glided her small delicate hand across the wall looking for any sort of a way out, or a light, or just ANYTHING! She found a door made of what felt like metal, with of course no door handle. Of course!

Loe sat on the ground again, rubbing her now throbbing head. How did I get here? Who put me here? The last thing I remember is….well, I cannot remember. The last thing I actually remember is dancing to some salsa music, so this really does not make much sense. She decided to just try to sleep until hopefully someone came to find her here.

Kolektikka vs. the Red Bird

It sat there glaring at me through the clear window. Every day at this same very moment, tweeting away, fluttering it’s glorious red wings as if to say “I am better than you, and more beautiful that you.” Ohhh, those red feathers, so fancy, so brilliant, so different. Much more different than the annoying black birds that like to try to gang up on me. Can’t a fluffy tabby cat just lay delightfully in the sunshine flapping its tail in pure happiness? Someday I will make a gang of my own and bite your heads off perhaps.

Now, back to that red bird again. It sings this song that my owners just swoon over. It makes me gag. What does that red bird have that I do not? What the red bird doesn’t know and my foolish owners do not realize is that I am the one that actually runs this show, and owns this place. Silly humans. Someday I will get you mr. red bird. Your day is coming. And then I will sing my own song. We will see how this unfolds soon enough. Your day is coming red bird, your day is coming.

The Reason for the Season

Long ago, I had a hard time dealing with life. No one really liked to take me for who I was, I didn’t get along with anyone. One night I tried to take my life, I cried, and I as much as I don’t want to talk about or admit at this point cried out “If there is a God, then you have to change my life!” Two weeks later, my parents chose to go to church. I fell asleep in the pew. My mom, knowing my passion and love for music, set me up singing lessons with the pastor’s wife. She continuously invited me to church camp. And begrudgingly, I chose to go, so she would stop asking, and because she seemed to be about the only person who cared about me at that time, at least in my thoughts.

I went to that church camp, I chose to give my life to a religion known as Christianity. Desperate times and coincidences take us to places that perhaps our minds can get carried away with us.

I cannot say there is, or is not any deity. You cannot prove one, nor the other. Therefore it is blank.

Take it from me though. I just began doing a facebook timeline gig, and it’s SCARY, seeing how crazy we get when we aren’t thinking logically, and get taken away with the waves of insanity. No wonder people in cults easily believe everything their leaders say, or sometimes even end up doing a mass suicide.

Religion sometimes starts with coincidences, and baby steps. In a heart that longs for love, it sometimes is our heart’s desperation that conforms the mind to believe “This could be it, this has to be it, this is most certainly more than real.”

Slowly though, sometimes the mind will fight back. And I say thank goodness for that. Slowly, my mind chose more logical decisions. Eventually, I realized everything I was choosing to be a part of was nothing short of insanity, and that was where I was entirely.

I’m going back. Looking at almost every, single, stinking post…And alllll about this crazy God hoopla and what I like to call now in my life, Christianese (due to it sounding like it’s own language of crazy a lot of the time). It makes me SICK, and it is so scary to see what people (myself in the past, included) believe. I fed off of other people of the like. And more than anything, I truly believe it is more a crazy social hypernet rather than a religion with a God who loves you as you worship him with all that you are. In a way, it is like a pyramid scam. There is a product, but the purpose that no one in the scam likes to face or admit is that, there are people under them, and more people joining in, not really based on the actual selling of the product, just people joining in. However, the product is talked about and brought to hype settings that way it still seems to be the core purpose. Reality and intelligence says that is false.

Everything is selfish in it too, on that note. I passed a sign driving back to visit my family. It said “He saves his people who seek him”. As in Jesus. What about the people in whom are not defined as “his people” in today’s christian terms? I mean…if you look in the Bible…isn’t it the lost people Jesus came for? Isn’t technically all the world are sheep, and he goes back to save the lost ones? Meaning that he is to be a shepherd. And shepherds are to guide their sheep, keeping them together. If one disappears, the shepherd goes to find them. You never hear about a sheep trying to look for it’s shepherd, and that would of course defeat the purpose of shepherding. So really isn’t it supposed to be God seeking us anyways? And how is that to ever come to be? So maybe christianity throughout the ages has come to a point of all of these twists and turns adapted into what it is today to make it slightly more “answer-baring”, so more people can fall into the new beliefs of it all.

Looking into religion too deeply in any circumstance is a little too much in any case, as far as what seems to meet the eye. Even in the muslim religion, we’ve seen people killing their own lives and the lives of others in the process of doing something in the namesake of their version of who this God may be to them.

To me…God was always the only one I had and the best friend I had.

In the end, I think it was myself just making some excuse to cope with being alone combined with just living in a world where Santa Claus is real, metaphorically speaking that is. It’s all childish. The St. Nick here being God of course. It all sounds so good and wonderful, but in all of it’s reality…it’s something not so true after all so it seems. Christians hate to see that Santa takes all the credit around the holiday season. But it’s actually clear to see that this God and Santa have a lot more in common than what everyone seems to think. All baring something wonderful, when in reality…people are what make that lie a truth to all of those who believe, children especially easily believe. But I guess eventually, we all grow up.

VONCHUBBULA

Once there was a cute little teddy bear, bearing (no pun here) the face of Chevy Chase. He was a happy little teddy bear, and cute as pie.

He lived all by his lonesome in a land full of gum drops and lollipops. It was more of a demented version of what we remember of the childhood game, Candy Land. Demented, you ask? Well…there’s something about this very happy looking place you may not know about.

In the land of Carmellassus, there also lived a beautiful blond princess named Bellatracia. Many of the Carmellassites worshiped the very ground she walked on, for she was surely a beauty. She had reigned over the village, for her father, King Vincent Vonchubbula, had mysteriously passed recently due to what the Carmellassus investigative team describe as a treacherous scandal of love and war, involving Chevy the bear’s sister, Patrontia. King Vonchubbula had never intended to fall in love with Patrontia, whom was at this point now Bellatracia’s step-mother, but the king fell in love with her because of her smitten face. Patrontia was the opposite of Chevy and had a human body with a teddy bear face. Vincent and Patrontia loved taking walks through the weeping black licorice trees by the purple soda pond. One day, it seemed the licorice seemed to grab hold of him around the neck and pulled him into the pond. He was found the next day, lying face up purple, almost camouflaged in the purple soda. No one really knows what happened out there that day to poor King Vonchubbula. But all signs pointed to Patrontia. So the investigators threw Patrontia into a jail cell (which happened to be made of candy canes).

Princess Bellatracia, however, was the one the villagers needed to worry about. She was the one who had actually committed this terrible act, jealous of the time her father, the king, had spent with her new step mother. Upon this, she consistently needed a vapid amount of people surrounding her that would tell her how lovely she was. Her need for all of this attention, eventually led to her wanting to control the village. She wanted to be the queen, and worshiped entirely like a candy goddess.

Chevy did not talk to most of the villagers, but kept to himself in his cute little gingerbread home. By the way, don’t call him cute or he gets very angry. He did not do much outside of his home. He had a favorite hobby of writing screen plays, in hopes that one day he would have enough guts to turn them into the directors at Chocomelt Studios, in Chocowood. When he heard the news about his sister, however, it dawned on him she would never commit such a devious crime and he knew it was up to him to put on his detective hat and get to the bottom of this crime. Begrudgingly, he slipped on his scarf, and set out to the purple soda pond looking for answers.

Meanwhile, back at the Vonchubbula Castle, Bellatracia stood awaiting to enter onto the chocolate bar balcony to give a speech, being newly inundated to the world of rulers. She looked at herself in the mirror and batted her false eyelashes and primped her curls in the mirror. She then gave herself a devious smile in the mirror as if saying to herself “I finally did it”. Getting up from her vanity stool in her blue sapphire dress, she walked out upon the balcony waving to the villagers and blowing them all kisses.

“My people!” she shouted to them with a lovely smile, then curling into a frown, “My people…” false tears now forming, “as you know the terrible recent news of my father being dearly departed, and how my wicked step mother murdered him upon the very spot on their walks he loved most. It’s truly a tragedy, affecting not only myself, but you, my beautiful, wonderful people.” Faces of sympathetic villagers were abroad the crowd, some also in actual tears. “C’est la vie…we must move forward. A morose village cannot accomplish great things. Therefore, we will be building a monument, formed in my image to brighten the city, and also build an army to take over the world!” The crowd cheered audaciously, for the city has never been assertive, but quite complacent and stagnant.

…to be continued…. 😉