Is it all good? Really? No. But only because it is all good.
If all of this is an illusion and God is all that is "real" and God is love, then God, or Love, apparently has some pretty fucked up shit in His/Her/It's mind.
All I can say is it better be pretty peachy rainbow ice cream orgasm when we finish with this world and on to the next. Like when God's done playing with His toys, he better not leave them all disheveled and broken or we are going to need a new definition of good. Like "whatever the fuck God wants at any given time" is good.
Hence all this crap, which is obviously what He wants, because it "is."
Yeah.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Journal entry for October 30, 2011 (or thereabouts--towards a non-dual definition of good)
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
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I've changed my comments settings to allow for anyone to comment. All comments are welcome, even spineless potshots from anonymous posters. Please, by all means, give me the tongue lashing I so richly deserve. I promise not to hunt you down and melt your keyboard with my plasma cannon. I won't, however, promise not to pout and make that face you can't stand.