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?


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

    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.