Suicide and the praying Christians

This morning I got the terrible news that a good family friend's son had died. In fact he had committed suicide. He was 25. I didn't really know him well. We'd spent literally years of holidays together, my broken family and his whole family of four kids and two loving parents. My family broke when I was ten or eleven. I, think like all children of divorce, didn't at the time take it too badly: I slept at the base of my mothers bed for almost a year before I was brave enough to move into my own room. But that's a different story. The story of this young man's suicide is the point here today. 

Suicide to me is a double sided fuck-up. My great aunt and uncle committed suicide. He was about to loose his second leg to illness and old age, and she was bed-ridden and slowly being eaten by cancer. He ended her life, and then his own. When I was told I was terribly sad, but also terribly proud. Such a noble act. What greater sacrifice could be made? What greater request could be fulfilled than to kill your wife, and then lie down next to her and end your own? They had been married for over 50 years, were both approaching 90 and had had a good life. To me, and his sister, my grandmother, it seemed like an act of amazing love and bravery. 

What this friend of mine did though, killing himself at such an age hasn't left me with the same feeling. In fact it's left me wondering what it's all about? Sure he had problems, he was an under-achiever, someone who didn't have direction in life. Coming from a big family I can understand that he may have felt alone or insignificant. Knowing his mother I know that would not have been anyone's intention and purely a contruct of his own depressed mind, she is one of the most loving and caring people I know. I can also appreciate that he must have felt he was saving everyone around him a lot of trouble by removing himself from the equation. Little thinking that his removal would cause more strife than he could possibly imagine. 

In the same conversation with my mother about this horrid event she also confessed to having relented to another old family friend of hers. Aparently this good friend of ours has started a prayer group for me. My own prayer group, I should be proud. It happens to be praying for my salvation and realization that 'choosing' homosexuality is the work of evil. And that I should be saved from my stupid decision and come right and start sticking my dick into cunts. You can probably tell from my language just how I feel towards this woman and her wonderful circle of Christians. She apparently talks to my mother about how the group is doing. Apparently not too well since I've been going out with more gay friends than I can remember, am actively looking for a boyfriend, and have been easing into this new life of debauchery quiet nicely.

But what makes me really angry, is not her misguided idea that I choose to suck dick, and not lick clit. I don't and have never choosen to. I have chosen to try to deny my inner self. And succeeded for quiet some time. But I don't choose to not have two arms, or two legs. Trust me on this, finding the male body amazing and the female body rather badly proportioned, and rather ungainly is not something that I can account for. A strong chest lightly dusted in hair has more appeal to me than two firm breasts of snow white. Why? I don't know. It just does. (Sorry ladies, it's nothing personal.)

So back to the suicide and how the praying Christians are involved. If they are praying for me to see the light, is it not strange that they should exert themselves so much over what I do with my genitals than perhaps what I do with my mind? Shouldn't they be praying that I don't cheat, lie, or decieve others? Isn't it more of a crime to lie to someone and take advantage of them, than to sexually satisfy a willing partner? For that matter shouldn't all of their exersions be directed to preventing kids from killing themselves? It seems to be a constant occurance. Well... so is homosexuality. Oh shut up. You know what I mean. 

So I suppose I'm writing this because I'm frustrated over the Human condition. Not my own this time, which is bizarre, but over others. We take our daily lives and those of others around us with such seriousness that I think we tend to forget the basics: Life and Death. Our evolutionary forefathers were solely concentrated on those two points. Live by procreation and food obtainance, or die by death (?). Did Zorg the caveman stop and wonder if Gog and Krug were fucking each other, and if perhaps he should stop and spend some time praying that they didn't? Or did Zorg realize that killing the tiger, raping the woman, and bringing home food for his children was more important? Guess what - Zorg brought home the bacon, lived life, and was happy when his family were fed. He died, and his children continued the pattern.

Krigger however realized he could get food for free by talking to the spirits who made all those funny things Zorg, and Gog, and Krug couldn't explain and who could ensure a successful hunt (sadly the fact that Zorg and co. have been successfully hunting for thousands of years seemed to have been missed). And Krigger realized that his words gave him power. And I suspect at some point Krigger wanted to sleep with Krug, but Krug refused, prefering his lifelong partner of Gog. Krigger, in a fit of jealous rage invents the Roman Catholic Church and turns homosexuality into just another item on his list of shit to fuck people up with so that they are so grateful Krigger has absolution for them (because as Krigger pointed out, everyone is inherently sinful) that they'll continue to give him free stuff so he doesn't have to do a stitch of work. Marvelous really. 

So we get prayer groups all hoping that Krigger's god will miraculously drive the demons from my consciousness and save my penis. Except then you get kids like my friend whom, ok he wasn't gay, but he certainly committed other sins (as do we all, remember Krigger's rule: All men are born sinful), and it's the pressure of these amazing groups that push kids to the point of no hope. If Kriggers god doesn't want us sinners, and our parents look to Krigger's god for all that is pure and good, then perhaps they don't want us around; horrid reminders of how far we are from their devoted ideal. I'm not saying that this kid committed suicide because his parents made God out to be great and any deviation from God's perfect words was to be looked down upon... or am I? I didn't want to be gay, God had said it was bad and everyone around me had agreed. I was different because Krigger said so, and everyone agreed.

If a non-existant being has more power over humans than other humans doesn't that say something about humans? We delude ourselves into following orders from something that is as material as vacuum. And why? Because that vacuum offers us an option for a better existance. Thing is, the only thing to existance is food, shelter, and sex. Get that right and you exist. Get a marvelous house, an amazing car, a beautiful wife, and a good salary - the only thing that improves is the food, and shelter. Sex is still the same. We have become addicted to the idea that a better house, richer food, bigger spaces, softer pillows are the essentials to life. And we're willing to sacrifice other humans to get it by placating a non-existant God.

The Christian who prays for the queer is really asking that the fag stop 'acting' against the being; so that the queer and the Christian can get better food, shelter, and sex. God doesn't give a fig whether or not we have happiness or not. If he did, he'd stop fucking around and give it to us. If we have to grovel for an all powerful being before he gives it to us - well then, God is my four year old cousin with the TV remote just before a major Rugby game. (I don't actually have a 4 year old cousin, but I needed one for the image to work, deal with it. (And I dont' watch Rugby either.)) 

I guess what I'm saying is that this bloke kills himself and our reactions are extraordinary. We all rally around the family, offer help and support. This is excellent, and something we should do more off. I however finally tell the truth about myself and my personal feelings and the same thing happens. Massive rallies are called, strangers who don't even know me suddenly start asking the most powerful being in existance to help little old me. So the point of this long post is really this: 

Don't stress about anything not directly related to food, shelter, or sex. Especially if it doesn't concern you personally. Learn to let go and rejoice that your roof doesn't leak, or that the food is a little bland. You're achieving the ultimate goal of evolution. You're surviving. Now don't go and ruin it by trying to tell others how to do it. Let them evolve as they want. All you now have to focus on is sex. And from what I hear (having not had it myself yet) it sounds pretty damned fun...