Saturday, February 23, 2013

Celebrating Self-Pity Saturday!

I came to a rather profound conclusion a couple of weeks ago.  My life has no meaning.

For all of my theology and talk of God's love, the fact is, I'm a big fat faker.

I walk down the street and fully expect people who look at me to know:  I may be able to articulate the theological view that God is love, and we are created in God's image, and we are made for love, but deep down inside, I actually believe that I am one of God's few mistakes; I am one of those God probably wishes she could claim a do-over on.

I have come to the seemingly valid conclusion, based on observable evidence, mind you (I honestly believe my conclusions would hold up under scientific scrutiny--replicable results and all that), that I have nothing of real value to offer the world, let alone any person in this world.  My life has no meaning.

I suck.  I have about as much value, maybe less, than the likes of Ted Bundy and John Wayne Gacy.  I mean, Ted Bundy at least provided a fascinating case study.  John Wayne Gacy not only provided a fascinating case study, but made it so easy to mock Republican candidate Michele Bachmann for her inability to keep her facts straight.

I am not infamous.  I'm just unimportant.  Worse than that, really, I am simply in-valid.  I have nothing to offer that anyone wants.  I am irrelevant.

And it's not as though this is something I can change.  One cannot simply make something out of nothing.

So, I take up space.  And precious resources like oxygen every time I breathe and non-renewable fossil fuels when I drive to work each day.  I waste people's time with my need to clarify things so I know I'm doing it right.  I waste people's Saturdays when they come to my blog and read about my descent into the mire and muck of self-pity.  Those who read this will surely agree and grow bitter and resentful that I took their precious time.

Big fat faker.  Irrelevant.  In-valid.  No one wants anything I have, so it must be the case that I have nothing of value to offer.  Worthless.

One day, my cats really will eat my undiscovered corpse, and then, at least, I will have served a purpose:  keeping them alive, and making the clean up job so much easier.  I anticipate, of course, that they will begin with my eyes.  Any chance I can just fast-forward through the intervening 60 years?

2 comments:

  1. Mb. You are wonderful and special and uniquely you. To quite Dr. Seuss, "there is no one youer than you."

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    1. My best friend said that I am "in a bad place." I have to say, my notion of a bad place is a truck stop frequented by serial killers.

      I appreciate your kindness, PSS, but even the you-est me is never going to have any substantive or of value to offer others.

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