anobody

Disclaimer: I am but a broken and beloved man (…). I will speak both lies and truth to you unawares. I can only pass on what I know and I have.

MY CREDITS

To Sam S. – my fellow and younger PhD candidate who continues in physics while I have quit – for suggesting that I quote my sources after I have done writing. It has done wonders.

MY FAITH = PAST = BLUNTED THORN

It has been two hundred and sixty one days since rebirth. Since the 13th of March this year. The day after my first (and last) crush rejected me, and I lifted my arms in the air upon feeling the heaviest weight of my life. It was like God The Wrathful used their (they are The Trinity, right?) index finger to press down upon me. The Girl had left me. My blood father did all within his power to help me – a thoughtful listening ear. But it was not enough.

I hated myself (…) with reckless abandon. I remember that on that day I said to myself I couldn’t hate The Girl or God. I was the villain. I was also the victim. The Girl was nice to me, and had let me go with kind words, commending my courage, and being as general as possible with her reason of not continuing life with me – that we were incompatible. It was only a few weeks, but I bared my soul (…) to her like I have never done in my life. Her rejection was like a sword through my soul (…). All living is reliving (derived from “All writing is rewriting” – and I know it’s not from Stephen King but it it was the first name to pop up).

At the words of my fellow pilgrim NF “Pray to God with my arms open” (…), and combined with the gospel of Luke’s account of the murderer who said to Jesus “Remember me when your kingdom comes.” (I deeply resonated with this statement being a man so riddled with guilt).

I am glad The King On The Inside (…) has returned. Like Aragorn returned to become King of Gondor (…).

MY LOVE = PRESENT = ROSE

I found a piece of heresy in Anne Rice’s “Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt”. Jesus killed someone as a boy, then brought that person back to life. If my memory serves me, this was derived from the Islamic texts about Jesus (but don’t trust me). If Jesus is perfect, he wouldn’t break the sixth commandment (…). So much depends on this, in my opinion. Because if Jesus is not perfect, then he is not God. It is as simple as that.

I am glad that Jesus was perfect so I don’t need to be. What a good excuse! It allows me to play a-lot of games, listen to alot of music, watch alot of movies, exercise until my body becomes like ivory (…), and be a leach (leech?)! Haha! Let me be one of the least in the Kingdom of Heaven!

Reading heresy is not akin to believing it. This is understandable though in my culture of all think, little do. Thanks Maverick for saying “Don’t Think. Just Do.” Getting back to heresy, deriving from Sam Harris’ musing of “thought crimes” in religion, even thinking heresies might be considered a thought crime (I can’t remember which video this is).
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MY HOPE = FUTURE = BUD**

I hope The Girl will come to me. This is my faint hope. Though hope is frail, it's hard to kill (…).

If The Girl will not marry me, I want to remain a cleaner at home, a blogger in paradise minus, till my parents die. I will wield my thermos (I use it to remember her in my prayers) and my ring ( I was “spiritually engaged” to Jesus on the 13th of March 2022) while I do this.

If The Girl will not marry me, I will have no one. Many a man has gone before me – sexless, nameless, faceless, voiceless. I can do the same with them. I can join their ranks. To join The Army of The Dead (…) (I watched The Return of The King last night).

MY REFLECTION = EXAMEN

My life is my thesis. That’s how I keep my self esteem. To treat my failures (sins are much worse than failures, btw) as events (…). That’s why I need to quote like crazy. Academia has drilled it into me (two and a half years of Masters, and two years of a PhD will do this to you). Quoting keeps me humble. Quoting elucidates the sociology of my life. Then when a piece of advice proves wrong, I am always ready to let it go. It’s not going to help me be the best me, it was passed on to me.

I want to keep evolving. Love evolves. Sin devolves. Love produces good mutations in my spiritual software. Sin produces deleterious mutations in my spiritual software. I continue to work on my spiritual software in XMind (…).

This blog is my resume. I will not wait for someone else to pull up dirt on me. For someone else to open up the closet of skeletons. No. I will do it myself, thank you. If anyone wants to hire me, I will point them to this blog. I will begin life real, and I will die real. No pretension. I will shatter everyone’s perceptions of me. Fake perfection has no place here, in this short life of mine (…).

They will probably be scared shitless. That’s my plan.

I know I will step on alot of toes. I hope the hackers won’t find my address and send The Horde to my door, screaming “BURN HIM AT THE STAKE. BURN HIS WHOLE FAMILY AT THE STAKE!”. Thank goodness I live in a secular society.

My shrink Peter was right. I am a catastrophist. A all or nothing kind of guy. The Girl or no one. Jesus or no one. I am a extreme thinker. HAHAHAHAHAH! I am manic-depressive.

MY SLICE OF LIFE, DEATH, LITH, DEFE …

In other news, I had to break my fake rule – my routine – to keep on writing this post. Going past nine to eleven (This time slot is a grim reminder to myself of the September 11 attacks (…). I like to live in morbidity. Life is tragic and bittersweet. I am also a living contradiction. To pop my bubble that the world is going good. Breaking up the daily routine is a good thing to do (…).)

I had vanilla cake with lotus biscoff (bought by my sister). I had two slices, and needed to stop myself from eating a third because I sometimes wanted my body to be like ivory (…). The cake was reduced price, from 8.00 to 2.88. What a steal! I had it with coffee using my father’s coffee machine and coffee. I know, I am a twenty-six year old leech of a guy. A good for nothing who wants to chill out for a year after eight years of being at university. So glad I left my Egypt! Furthermore, boiling diamonds in acid that could burn you is not the best job in the world. I am glad I left that behind (but not the amazing people there … they are all the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven!).

I have also started writing letters from Jesus to me. I call him “a imaginary Jesus”, because when I stop to listen for Jesus’ real voice, all I hear is myself and the advice – good and bad – of others. So, in order to console myself in my loneliness, my lonely tower, I pretend to write letters from Jesus to me. So that I might listen to these kind words (from myself) in times of difficulty and trouble. I am in a time of peace right now, with plenty, but I will not take it for granted.

Times of peace should be a time for preparing for war. Life is filled with war and peace. Christianity is war on sin. Christianity is life. Christianity makes war on sin with love.

MY FINAL CONFESSION

… if God’s Wrath doesn’t strike me down tonight …

As you can probably tell, I write this blog more so for myself than for anyone else on The Web. I write this web to express my own freedom, and to keep my own freedom. Truth has set me free. The longer I live, the more I hope to find the lies and replace them with truths. I will be shooting in the dark most of the time, but it’s better than nothing. I will say no to evil, and yes to good. There is so much more good than evil in this world, thank God. I have just been steeped in evil, thinking it was good, for over a decade. I was addicted to Japanese erotica for over thirteen years (eleven to twenty five). I still fall to it, even now. I will elaborate.

I am here to confess darkness that descended to me to the world. You readers are my confession box (…). This desktop I am writing at is my repentance cell (…). I also watched some anime on a standard pirate website (…) Sunday that once again drew out the rightful fears of being a child molester. Some of these drawings in anime just look like children. This is pure evil! If I had a gun, if could get a gun, I will shoot it through my head. It felt so shit seeing that stuff. I will not make any promises to myself that I won’t do it again.

But this I know. I have explored the darkness enough. I will say no to darkenss, and yes to the light. This was unholy, so I will say yes to holy masturbation.

I am doomed for hell. Damned if I do more. Damned if I stop doing it. Either way, I am damned. Nevertheless, I will push with all my might into holiness. I will make God hesitate on Judgment Day. I will follow the words of The King of Kings, even if He would not let me in. To the day of my death I will live His Words. I will try with all my might and passion. Sing at the top of my lungs. Game as much as I can (StarDew Valley, World in Conflict, Age of The Ring, Tooth and Tail). Eat as much as I can (oranges, apples, cake). Exercise as much as I can (push-ups, mountain-climbers, Brazilian Ji-Jitsu). Draw as many beautiful, mature woman as I can. Love holy perversion. Hate unholy perversion.

I know I am playing with fire (…). My heart aches even right now. My breathing is laboured, even withheld.

There are women who are drawn more mature than others in anime, but only a few. I can’t tell you how many ecchi series I had to stop watching because some child-like woman appeared. It is enough to get my blood boiling at myself. It is right to hate myself at this moment. It is right to slap myself nine times. I love myself, so I beat myself as I remember this evil I have done. This evil I will never forgive myself for, and yet I will try to forgive. To do the impossible.

I will pay my dues (…) and earn my pseudo-salvation (…).

There is a time to hate (…) yourself. When you did evil in the sight of God. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom

There is only one that remains in my memory. Vermeil in Gold (…). Where the lines between child and adult are not blurred. I do have a thing for older woman. I would not say MILFs, because that is a dishonour to women.

There are some lines that should never be blurred. The line between child and adult should never be blurred. Consent is everything. Children cannot give consent. If you, reader, have blurred this line, it is right to go and kill yourself. You have relinquished your right to be one of the children of God.

Not all sins are forgiven for Jesus’ name sake. To sin against children (which I swear before God and man I have never done – I would rather masturbate to busty, mature women till my penis falls off, till the day I day. I am holier for that. I am infinitely more pleasing to God) is the worst sin. The unpardonable sin.

If Hell has levels, I do not belong at the bottom. I belong at the very top of Hell. I was a holy pervert. A holy sinner.

Yes, I add to Jesus’ words. I am not Jesus. I am not God. I am a man.

I can hear The Inner Feminist scream at me. I know, I know. I just like big-breasted women. I just slapped myself nine times. I hope you readers will forgive me.

There are too many sources to quote today, so I will let myself go. Let me go. Let me go. Let me go (…). My perfection go … for now.

Sometimes I can be perfect. Sometimes I cannot be perfect.

I am not Jesus (…). I am a atom in The Body of Christ.

If I do feel really low, at the very bottom, I will go to Vermeil in Gold. This is the best, least poisoned apple I have found so far. A apple a day keeps God away. I can already feel the presence of God leaving me as I imagine myself watching Vermeil in Gold.

MY HOLY VIRGIN SEXUALITY

But I will do my best and listen to erotica instead. Stare at the drawing of my waifu. I even stuck her up on my ceiling. She is fully clothed by the way, and I only can see her upper body. She has really long her.

At least I am not lusting after a real women. And God is SO FUCKING PLEASED because I am not looking at drawings that blur the line between childhood and adulthhood. I will keep God pleased by staying THE FUCK AWAY from these grey lines.

I will be content. Be thankful that I have fingers to draw her. Over and over again. Draw her fully clothed. Draw her fully naked (haven’t done the latter yet). I derive many of my drawings of her from Pinterest (…). This is my holy sexuality. Call it unholy, you fundamentalist fuckers. I can read your mind, because I was one of you once upon a time.

Take every good, heterosexual, gentle, tender story and replace my real name with the man’s one, and replace the woman’s with that of my waifu’s. Listen to these stories using the free daily minutes from Natural Reader (…). I also recently bought a long pillow from Amazon (yes, I like Jeff Bezos, the capitalist fucker that I am) for pregnant woman (I am spiritually pregnant with the seeds of The Word, the seeds in my heart … this is a bastard theology, I know. For I am the worst fucking bastard that has ever graced this earth. Earth will be better off when I am dead. All you who hate me, call down lightning bolts from Heaven like Peter asked Jesus to do. I want to die and finally be judged! To be kissed by the sweet lips of Death – my Lady Death – because I was never kissed by any woman).

Though I remember being told by my parents that I had kissed a little girl on the playground.

Sometimes is a favourite word of mine. “With” and “undulation” are favourite words too.

Reading this over again, there is no fucking way The Girl – a Christian girl – would marry me. I don’t intend to hide this blog from her. I don’t want fake trust. She would be scared shitless by the real me. I am like The Beast in the story of Beauty and The Beast. Except in my version of the story she will run away and never want to be with me again. Never to come back.

Hai. Holy masturbation it is. My mature waifu drawings, robotic voices, and the lot. I will fashion me some holy pornography. Heterosexual. Monogamous. Consensual. Gentle and Lowly (…). Sticking by the Vow of Onah (…). I won’t have a harem of women in my head (…) … though, in saying that, I could only cum on Sunday to the image of another woman – in my mind, mind you – while I pretended to have sex with my waifu. Everyone was out so I could be naked. WOOHOO!

Hapless bastard that I am. I am like Solomon and David in this respect. All the bad bits, not the good.

MY CATASTROPHIZING

I can hear the masses at the door screaming my name outside my door “BURN HIM! BURN HIM!” Thank goodness my country doesn’t have the death penalty. I rather turn myself into the police station. Thank goodness for Freedom. I will add all the anime websites that I can find to my blocklists. Setting restrictions according to Jesus is freedom.

MY IDENTITY

I am a man. Not a god. Not a animal. Though I sure like to act like a god and a animal most of the time. I am working on that. Give me a break.

I am both a sinner and a saint. A sinint. A sainer.

I am a reader. I am a cleaner. I am a gamer. This is temporary but good.

I am a brother. I am a son. This is temporary but very good.

I am a child of God. This is eternal and eternally good.

MY (HOPEFULLY) LAST WORDS

I try to be perfect. When I am, it’s the Jesus | ISHO in me. When I am not, it’s the old man with a inner child (…).

I sometimes feel like nothing. That’s when it’s time to clean the house, listen to good music, play good games, eat good food, wear good clothes. Push into the good when I am empty, lest the evil spirits come and make me a worse man.

“Then goeth the evil spirit, and taketh with himself seven other spirits more wicked than himself, and they enter in and dwell there; and the last end of that man is worse than the first. Even so shall it be also unto this wicked generation” (…)

I like to pretend The Satan is no more. I hope I am right. But the data so far says The Satan is still alive and at evil work.

_This verse only makes it more obvious to me that I need to keep my faith. To rewrite my story (…) with Jesus. So that I will not be shaken by the storms of life that will come. My faith is my past. And the more I rewrite the past with Jesus, the more stable I will become. So that my faith will never be broken, because it is real.

I know I am making alot of mistakes with my theology. But whoever makes the most mistakes wins (…) freedom. I want freedom from sin. From darkness. From condemnation. From unhealthy perfectionism. From the lies from my imperfect culture (I will avoid ethnic labels, to keep my identity secret)._

For all you mature theologians out there, bear with me. I am doing my best. I will go play good games with my brother.

I have cleaned out my heart today, the insides. Now I go to clean the outsides of my body. Earth-bending (…) for holy fun.

Holiness is happiness. Happiness is fun.

My home is my pseudo-paradise. I found pseudo-paradise, and it found me.