Thursday’s Thoughts - Theme: Realizations

     Dwelling and eating me inside out like maggots in disguise; I’ve had a few realizations recently.

1.   I was genuine with every inhale of ash blonde breath. Heart-wrenching tonight, it was realized wholeheartedly where you had never found me.
2.   It is possible to use someone after ties have been severed, even if no conscious thought of usage had occurred when they were originally wrung tight.
3.   There are wrong reasons and right reasons for (ab)using someone. I have not justified use with a wrong reason.
4.   My body is simply a body, although it is mine to partially do what I wish with.
5.   Vanquishing specific emotions will eternally be unfeasible, lest I self-annihilate without resurrection to complete the Übermensch show.
6.   I am the Übermensch as long as I want to be, for the ape is still within thee.
7.   Slacking on my studies wasn’t a result of a declining care for biology, instead, an escalator gallivant to the roof of attention in pursuit of a spotlight.
8.   Someone would die in place of me. My value must be high, so shall it remain and rise.

This Week’s Theme: Realizations

“Love is the extremely difficult realization that something other than oneself is real.” - Unknown

“But egoism is more than this. It is the realization by the individual that he is above all institutions and all formulas; that they exist only so far as he chooses to make them his own by accepting them.” - John Buchanan Robinson

“Having seen and felt the end, you have willed the means to the realization of the end.” - Thomas Troward

We are; Unsaved

Chances are high that if you’re reading this, I truly and honestly think you would be more beneficial amongst the dead. But don’t worry your pretty selfish head, I’m reading this too.

WhydoIbreakdowneverysinglefuckingnightofmylifehauntedbythememoriesofallofyou?

Advice of the Unwarranted

     My father constantly tells me the same things in a broken record repetition as if I didn’t already know the garbage he’s recycling. It’s something I don’t think I’ll ever logically understand.

     Here I am studying some hardcore topics of biology, and he remind me that I need to be careful with my laptop directly on my bed because the lack of ventilation could cause the fan to burn up.
     I get that he’s a father and he’s looking out for me, yet in my opinion my reasoning for why it was absolutely unnecessary outweighs why it could have been. Not only has he told me this same advice in mimicking context time and time before, but I’m fairly sure that anyone studying a subject as intricate as biology—especially using a laptop for all of their notes—can piece the not-so-jigsaw puzzle together of, “Hey, I better be careful with the laptop fan being placed directly on a blanket for long periods of time.”
     My point is that I know this. I do not know biology, so studying the subject is stressful and strenuous enough without distraction, criticism, or any other form of disturbance the world’s inhabitants like to offer me.
I feel like I’m hardly given a break by people that shouldn’t even be harassing me in the first place. They portray themselves in a way as if I’m doing is never good enough for the unwelcome opinions I don’t care to even hear.

     “You need a job.”
     “You need to read more.”
     “You need to study less.”
     “You need to hang out with friends more.”
     “You need to call more and email less.”
     “You need to remind me more often you care about me.”
     “You need to be careful with your laptop on the bed.”

     As I went through the list of suggestions, I realized I can fire back every single one of them justifiably at the person that shot me with an elaborate explanation.
     Perhaps if they bothered me less, they could work on themselves more with a result of unconcern for my life, plus maybe an actual understanding of why I do the things I do.
     If you question whether the “advice” above escaped from your lips, it likely did or it likely will. Taste your own advice before you try lodging it down my throat. It goes without saying that if you do nothing, you’ll never understand someone that does everything.

Thursday's Thoughts - Theme: Ancestors

     Someday, it’s likely I will change my last name to detach from the family I was born into by “chance.” So few that the name belongs to have offered me help that I hardly see how I should keep it. For what genuine honor does any Mullino deserve outside of my father, who supports the idea of a name change?

     I had a conversation with my mother yesterday who proposed that it might be selfish to change my last name. But why? Is it still not my name, although a name someone placed on my head? Who deserves any credit for anything of my social existence, aside from me? If someone gives me something and I take it, that’s not selfishness. And quite frankly, it hasn’t happened too often among my ancestors.

This Week's Theme: Ancestors

“Do well and you will have no need for ancestors.” - Voltaire

“Every king springs from a race of slaves, and every slave had kings among his ancestors.” - Plato

“Some people are your relatives but others are your ancestors, and you choose the ones you want to have as ancestors. You create yourself out of those values.” - Ralph Ellison

Here is My Real Head series Pt. 4

Organ Grinder by Marilyn Manson

I am the face of piss and shit and sugar

I do a crooked little dance with my funny little monkey
What I want, what I want is just your children
I hate what I have become to escape what I hated being
Calliopenis envy from your daddy
You're not gonna hear what he don't want to hear
What I say disgusts him
He wants to be me and that scares him
"let's do a funny little dance with my funny little monkey"
The black keys
Here is my real head, here is my real head
I wear this fucking mask because you cannot handle me
Here is my real head
They try to blink me not to think me
Don't want to bring me out
I am the rotten teeth, my fists are lined with suckers
My prison skin's an eyesore-mirror-sketch-pad
I am your son, your dad, your fag, I am your fad
Here is my real head, here is my real head
I wear this fucking mask because you cannot handle me
Here is my real head

Here is My Real Head series 

Pt. 1 - Addiction & Self Mutilation
Pt. 2 - Childhood Grooming & Sex and Relationships
Pt. 3 - Worth of My Peers & Trust
Pt. 4 - Being Honest with My Parents
Pt. 5 - The Sound and Feel of Carpet

7. Being Honest with My Parents

     While reluctantly listening in on a phone call, a light bulb flickered above my head. 

     Everyone's parents should know who their children really are. My parents know who I truly am, as far as they allow themselves to see. My life and emotions are an open book, there's nothing left to wonder. If there were an uncertainty, I would gladly answer any question asked with one hundred percent honestly. However, I know that they cherry-pick what I proclaim like Christians do the Bible, or Muslims do the Qur'an. At least, they have in the past.

     So to practice this new idea, I'm going to share two more things with you and my parents to air out the things that have recently been on my mind. I hope this can inspire you to be honest with your parents, and most importantly yourself about your most 'shameful' opinions of things. I have been ashamed and scared for a very long time to tell my parents things, some I am still nervous to utter. But I have forced the time to arrive for me to push through my web of fears. My words are like razor blades, but I'm not trying to cut anyone. I'm trying to cut myself open to show you my real head.

"I am so tangled in my sins that I cannot escape.
Pinch the head off, collapse me like a weed
Someone had to go this far."
- 'Man That You Fear' by Marilyn Manson

     I don't feel a pang of guilt or urge to help out around the house as much as I could go out of my way to anymore because I am sick of being the only one that does anything. My dad's girlfriend would rather rip her skin off with pliers - hmm, wonder how that feels! - instead of lift a finger over something besides a television remote, so I know if I leave something to be done my dad will be the one to do it.

     But wait, I have a brother, right? Indeed I do, and he is eleven years old. My brother has two chores that he carries through with complaints. His two chores are feeding the dogs and and doing a half-assed job of vacuuming the kitchen on a barely weekly basis. Activities such as cleaning his room or putting away clothes are very rarely done alone, and never done without a smart alec remark.

     Like I said before, I don't feel guilty anymore. I did for a long time, but not because my dad's shitty girlfriend sent me harrassing text messages telling me how lazy she thought I was for not doing every little thing around the house so my dad didn't have to. (Kettle, you could have gotten off your ass and helped him if you really wanted to. In fact, you still can! Maybe if you spent less time attempting to belittle everyone and feeling sorry for yourself, you'd find a lot of time suddenly freed up.)

     I know my dad works long days and comes home to deal with this undeniably fake household, and that sucks. I'll repeat it again - I know it sucks, really hard. But I realized that my situation isn't exactly beautiful either. His girlfriend might be under the impression that sitting at home alone all day is positively wonderful for me to experience, but I'd imagine she could only be deluded by that assumption because there are five televisions here that she'd love to be watching in the time I could be, but don't.

     I refuse to do more than I feel is necessary for me to do to avoid being classified as lazy on an unbiased scale. My brother's life is perfect compared to what my home life was at his age. I don't see the fairness in being orally raped equating to doing all of the chores my brother could be helping with, later on in life. There's not a single, plausible reason for him to not grow up. I'm not going to be another ingredient for him not to, not anymore. My only hope and point for not helping out my dad more, is that one day - my hope - he will get sick of doing all the things I don't offer to do and ask 'someone' else to do them - my point. It's nothing personal against him, but asking why my brother does nothing while I do everything has gotten me absolutely nowhere.

     This next one's shorter because it's very simple. I'm not making an effort to talk to my mom as much as I used to because I don't want to be around her. I never thought I'd arrive at a point in my life where I truly didn't want to spend time with her. Honestly, I don't want to breathe in her second hand smoke because I value my life more than she seemingly values hers. Spending large amounts of time with her isn't worth dying a premature death, and it never will be ever again for anyone. When Nietzche said we have to kill ourselves many times while still alive to become immortal, I doubt smoking our lungs out is what he meant. I'm not sure I'll ever understand why she thinks she's invincible. Truthfully I don't even care anymore because it's grown so old.

     I'm disappointed that my mom's respect for me isn't substantial enough to cause her to not smoke in my presence. I've always been told - by smokers, no less - that if I don't want to be around it, then don't be. I take carelessly tossed about comments very seriously. Sarcasm applied equals results, as a result  of not spending as much - really none at all - time with her, I'm not coughing and feeling sickly as much as I did before. Much less, absolutely disgusted by how little someone can care for themselves.

     What I've never understood though, is why infants are more important to most smokers than someone only a few years older. When did I become unimportant to my mom? What age did I turn for it to suddenly be acceptable for my mom, grandparents, aunts, uncles, etc., to assist in collectively killing me? My honest nature would love to see the looks on their faces upon delivering them truthful news of having just discovered I have lung cancer and will likely die because of their lack of self control and my stupid decision to be around them.

-----

     I ask that no one thinks for a moment this is easy to share with the World Wide Web. It's not. I feel reluctance every time I post a blog describing how I feel about specific people or situations, angry or not. I know why I feel this way more than a normal person does. It should be pretty obvious that a victim of sexual abuse feels like everything should be kept inside to protect whatever is leftover of them. But I am no longer a shell! I refuse to be a decoratively painted hermit crab. My insides are beautiful, every last bit of them, and I will never be consciously ashamed to show you no matter how scared I am.

     I have learned by writing this and thinking it over that one of the biggest fears is something I was too scared to even admit to myself until this afternoon. Now I will admit it to you, but I'm sure it has been obvious for quite a time: I am scared to be honest with my parents about my feelings.

     Fortunately I know where the roots lie.

     So now I ask - do your parents know who you truly are?

Becoming the Übermensch

“This Übermensch would be an artist, scholar, lover, and philosopher. He would do what most people only dream of doing. He would test himself and his vision against the strength of the world.” – Eric Dontigney

    Having things be known is very important to me, even if someone doesn’t accept what I say as truth or an option of truth. I know my message has a high probability of remaining in the back of their head, waiting to rattle around again if brushed against in the future by similar speculation, thoughts, reminiscence, or physical situations. If allowed in their head by either warm or reluctant invite, I am like an extra conscience, or I am like a god that affects the thoughts of its believers and typically its skeptics too.

    Belief from opposite party means very little when I express to others my opinions of something, whether based on fact or speculation. Varying in topics from myself, them, relationships of our own or outside parties, politics, science, religion, morality, sexuality, etc. They don’t have to believe me when I proclaim that I’m going to go to college and create myself into a revolution of my cause. However, I will not allow them to step on me and bellow down to my place in the dirt that I won’t achieve greatness. When futile attempts to degrade me to a worm occur, I refuse to not be heard. They can shout in my face all the want with angry backlash, but I have risen from my premature grave that they’ve so wrongly dug me. The point is they’ll have to shout their disagreements at my face, their attempts at hanging me askew in mimic of a ‘degenerate’ piece of art to make their job a bit easier quickly be annihilated. If someone feels they must push me, they must feel I am stronger than they are. Why would anyone want less of a challenge if they saw equality or greatness in their opponent?

     If they do not fear me, they are so poorly mistaken at exactly what they are dealing with. I’m not some extraordinary being that was born an Übermensch. The difference between me and the majority of other people walking upon the same planet is that I recognize the power that is just begging to be unlocked from within. It shouts my name louder than any vocal cord every could, be it man’s or beast’s or a – presumably in this case – non-fictional god’s. It would be disgustingly wrong, crude, and a slew of other immoralities to myself to not grant its wishes for freedom. It simply desires liberation from its barred cell, I can sympathize. The truly magnificent thing is how intricately simple it is to break the lock.

     No matter who you are, it will never be easy to be the change you wish to see in the world, it will never be easy to become an idea as opposed to a simple human being, it will never be easy to sacrifice things, if not everything. Ease and simplicity are two entirely different spectrums, they require the respect they absolutely deserve to exist apart.

     My path will never be easy because I chose long ago to take the road of greatness. I want to stride alongside the beaten path of those I have allowed the honor of influencing me, and I dearly hope other precious people will allow me the highest human honor of being influential. They will re-humanize me, when I am nothing of the sorts! In that light, by their greatness, acceptance, trust, and love, I will finally become a Saint.

Here is My Real Head series Pt. 1

Organ Grinder by Marilyn Manson

I am the face of piss and shit and sugar

I do a crooked little dance with my funny little monkey
What I want, what I want is just your children
I hate what I have become to escape what I hated being
Calliopenis envy from your daddy
You're not gonna hear what he don't want to hear
What I say disgusts him
He wants to be me and that scares him
"let's do a funny little dance with my funny little monkey"
The black keys
Here is my real head, here is my real head
I wear this fucking mask because you cannot handle me
Here is my real head
They try to blink me not to think me
Don't want to bring me out
I am the rotten teeth, my fists are lined with suckers
My prison skin's an eyesore-mirror-sketch-pad
I am your son, your dad, your fag, I am your fad
Here is my real head, here is my real head
I wear this fucking mask because you cannot handle me
Here is my real head

Here is My Real Head series 
Pt. 1 - Addiction & Self Mutilation
Pt. 2 - Childhood Grooming & Sex and Relationships
Pt. 3 - Worth of My Peers & Trust

Pt. 4 - Being Honest with My Parents
Pt. 5 - The Sound and Feel of Carpet

 

     One of the things I’ve deemed most important for me to do is to face things I’m afraid of. It strongly ties in with the quote I assigned the year 2010, ‘Find what you are afraid of, face it, and then you won’t be afraid of it anymore.’ [Marilyn Manson, 1998]  Not that I never did before 2010, but now more than ever I’ve recognized its importance, particularly its importance in my life.
     I’m afraid of a few physical things. Sharks, tornadoes, and getting water in my eyes, to name a few. However, the majority of my fears have always upheld residency in the psychological or sociological realm. I am so well groomed still to this very day that I am frequently terrified of speaking what’s really on my mind. If not terrified, the fear persists on an unnatural scale of appropriateness.
     As a child, I used to secretly draw pictures of my dad with another family because I wasn’t brave enough to tell him that his actions led me to believe that he wanted to leave me and our ‘family’ (loosely used). Years later when he found one of the scrawlings, horrifyingly in my presence, I was deeply ashamed.

     Whenever I reflect back to those instances or ones similar, I shake my head at my childhood self. I wish I could lend her a helping hand, or some useful advice. I wish I could tell her to not fear being as brave as she really wanted to be, no matter what anyone tried to convince her with otherwise. I wish I could tell her how to escape the inevitable outside party conditioning after her own shampooing, but I don’t even have a substantial solution. I wish I could have saved myself for the child’s sake, for me then and for me now, but the lyric ‘there’s no one here to save ourselves’ [‘Man That You Fear’, Marilyn Manson] has never rung truer in my ears.

     Today I decided I wanted to list some things that are my completely honest opinions about the topic discussed. I am showing you my ‘real head’ without any reservations watering my beliefs. Fear-ladden, some. But today I am bravery stricken and bravery is self-contagious.

(This got to be nearly 2,700 words and seven pages long in Microsoft Word, so I am going to split it up into parts that have relative topics. I’ll post them in daily succession. Thank you for reading!)

1. Addiction

     I consider the title ‘addict’ the middle stepping stone of anything relating to the sorts of drugs, alcohol, cutting, sex, etc. The first stone is active participation, the second stone is claiming addiction as a state of being and existing, and the third stone is realizing you don’t necessarily have to be stuck in that mindset forever. It’s realizing NA, AA, SMA, etc. is all a form of brainwashing watered down by society into acceptability. Were these groups advocating something of a different topic, it would be a church or a cult which are equally despicable by various parties, and equally despicable by me personally.
     Not everyone can be strong enough to hop to the third stone, I am at terms with that and hold no resentment towards people that haven’t taken that leap, even if I feel they’re capable of landing safely. By no means, however, do I consider it a leap of faith. It is a reality to me, unless otherwise proved by something scientific.
     Your body is not eternally addicted to physically addictive drugs as far as I know, and you can change your mind to dispel whatever mental addiction subsides, at the least enough so that you won’t partake again. It’s a conscious choice we must make if we want to live happily without constantly being reminded of our faults and past, and I know with me personally it made me feel worse than better. Last time I checked, in any other form that’s considered dwelling, and frowned upon by the populations of major societies when it comes to any other subject like past relationships, or a poor childhood. No one wants to hear you whine or offer up the same excuses for everything, so why is it okay here? Well in my opinion it shouldn’t be, but because it keeps a majority of past ‘abusers’ under control, it’s a popular remedy.
     It’s important to remember that with the help of NA, AA, SMA, etc., you’re ultimately making the decision on whether or not to repeat your actions. The group may be offering something to your table of guilt, but are they really offering up respectable plates of reason? It’s important to come to terms with why you’re not still repeating your past behaviors. Do you genuinely not want to, or are you not because someone else is telling you to? Although the brainwashing can work, it doesn’t work forever, and it’s hardly different than the church convincing you their spiritual scriptures are what create your morals. Your genetics have and always will write your morality, as your mind will always inscribe what behaviors you do and do not participate in.

2. Self Mutilation 
     I don’t consider self mutilation in the form of cutting necessarily an addiction. I recognize that endorphins are released in the brain as a feeling of release when the act is carried through, and perhaps that does add a physical addictive attribute to the act. In my opinion, it doesn’t have as strong of a backing as drugs or alcohol. I believe that it’s favored by many, therefore allowing it the popular label of ‘addiction’ by society.

     I have experienced many mindsets when self mutilating, the most popular being dissociation without memory of the act, spur of the moment anger, rage, or sadness, and as a show of control over my physical behavior. I have upheld the last one listed within the past two weeks a single time, and I do not regret it. I wasn’t sad, and I am not sad now over the fact of my behavior. I am proud actually, proud of my control that it began and ended when and where it did, among other things.
     I don’t consider myself an addict any longer. I finally realize that I am above something that doesn’t even exist. Being an idea isn’t existence, otherwise all church or cult sermons—who can tell the difference anymore—would be true. I got caught up in believing something that wasn’t true, not all too uncommon of human beings, ha.

"Thoughts on.." Part Two- Religion

 Thoughts on..

Abortion 11/05/09 | Death Penalty | Prostitution | Alcohol

Gay Marriages | Illegal Immigrants | Downloading Music

Smoking | Drunk Driving | Cloning | Racism

Religion 11/13/09 | Premarital Sex | Porn

Religion?

29 April 2008- Have faith in whatever you want, but regardless, its not going to send you anywhere, its not going to make you a better person, its not going to help you. IT MAKES YOU A FUCKING ASSHOLE if you try to push it onto other people. If you're that fucking helpless that you need to shove it down someone else's throat, please jump in front of a car for me.

13 November 2009- For a considerable amount of time I evaluated the differences between Atheism and Agnosticism, and for a time I couldn't even comprehend the now-obvious distinguishing characteristics. I never leaned towards one or the other besides reason of "cool factor", meaning whatever influential person I looked up to at the time advised I should deem truth, I deemed truth. I can finally say in an irony-rich statement that I have comfortably attained security within a religion—or lack of—that I believe in. I never considered that I might as well have been condemned to cross irony in believing in disbelief. I should have foreseen such a result, considering I was the subject. I always knew subconsciously, regardless of my hopeless denial, that it'd never be as easy as deciding which God to believe in when the inevitable reality was that I believed in none.

     I hate to compare this to an irrelevant topic, especially since it withholds the possibility of pissing said group off, but it makes a lot of sense to me and I find comparisons that in my case of religious self-discovery it's similar to being gay. I unconditionally believe that gay people are born gay because they can recognize they're gay—whether they know what gay means yet or not—at a prepubescent age because it's genetic and not a conscious choice. From every recollected childhood memory, the idea of God has been absent from results of my ability to reason—possibly because of a specific instance that I will elaborate on later—but the conclusive reality is that God doesn't exist. I accept the concept of God, rendering me Atheist as opposed to Agnostic, but I do not accept the probabilities of God as reason to believe in Him.

     Often, it is proposed that people either believe or disbelieve in God because of an event that's taken place that profoundly affected them either in that instance, or later on in life due to re-analyzation. Almost embarrassingly, this was true for me for years. When I was nine years old, my friend Elizabeth* passed away in the middle of the night from an unanticipated heart attack. Alone, her death left my religious ideas unaffected, although it did familiarize me with the bitter reality that death exists. I didn't know it then, but I sure practiced my current principle that "all events are impersonal, even death" [Epictetus]. Undeterred by my attempts, I couldn't shed a single tear the day I caught news of her death. I felt extremely disrespectful when I couldn't even make my eyes damp, while the class bully sitting to my left bawled his eyes bloodshot. I hid the fact that I couldn't cry by burying my face in my crossed arms because I was convinced that lacking dramatic emotion was something to be ashamed of. I only wish I had known then what I was accomplishing by letting that event harmlessly—outside of my dissipated guilt—pass me by.

*Name changed for confidentiality, although I couldn’t find a single article about her on Google. I concluded it is probably due to her family being very private, and this was in a time before the internet exploded in popularity.

     At the wake, my attitude remained aforesaid until I approached the casket. Before it stood her father—who to my understanding is or was some type of religious leader—who spoke to everyone before they bid final valedictions to Elizabeth’s mortal remains. Elizabeth’s father took my hand and looked deeply into my eyes before enlightening me on the "fact" that Elizabeth was in heaven now and that God was looking over her, and personally over me too. He informed me that God loved Elizabeth and me, but offered no explanation as to why her untimely death occurred because a factual explanation in relation to his God did not exist. It was then that tears drenched my cheeks because I knew that he was lying to my face**, but more barbarously, lying over the body of his dead child.

** Many people have undeserved respect for those that truly believe in something that's doing "no harm" (religion is common), but it is doing harm because any religious concept is just that, a concept, and I do not let those equal to me walk upon me with their beliefs. You do not need a book to differentiate right and wrong, believing so is ultimate human weakness. It’s a shame adults in positions of political power need religion to let them know that they shouldn’t kill their fellow man. Where does the separation of church and state exist there? The bottom line is, you can believe whatever you want, but unless I ask or express obvious interest, I could care less.

     As time and events carried on, I relived that moment multiple times, trying to produce a tangible belief on what happened that night that Elizabeth's father attempted to instill his values within me. I cursed him for lying to me because I know he lied to classmates my age that either already agreed with his ignorance, or do now because of his admittedly convincing speech. On the contrary, I thanked the idea of him for enlightening me on something he didn't intend— the closure I needed that God does not exist.

     Society labels it a pubescent conception to state, "If God existed, this wouldn't happen." In actuality, many adults still face the same question long after their hormones are in check, regardless of how vocal they are of their religious considerations. Impressionable society instructs teenagers to shut up in a manifold of practices whenever the idea that God might not exist because he wouldn't let horrible things happen is either declared or exhibited in the embodiment of a currently unanswerable investigation.

     Extraneous from Elizabeth's death, my theories have developed into category 6 Atheism. I suspect my close relatives and I both confirmed years ago that that's what I would unquestionably come to secure as personal truth.

     Despite my previous comparison of my religious realization to being born gay, do not confuse this with me having the idea that people are born of a specific belief, because that's not true at all. Like Dawkins clearly expressed in The God Delusion, "That is not a Muslim child, but a child of Muslim parents. That child is too young to know whether it is a Muslim or not. There is no such thing as a Muslim child. There is no such thing as a Christian child." My comparison lied in the similarity that I knew I lacked belief in God from a young age while co-existing with the impressionable beliefs of others.

     While I personally think it's a waste of time to speculate on things that can never be answered—or the probability of it being answered during my lifetime being extremely slim—I do find it essential to be exceptionally educated on topics without immediate conclusion like religion and extraterrestrial life. Composing factual answers doesn’t have to be my life’s work for me to be well educated in their core concepts. If something is to be under frequent speculation, it only makes logical and intelligent sense that I should examine it with more thoroughness than just knowing a definition to be a productive member of society.

     So now the difference is finally clear and I am cleansed of all instilled delusions. Claiming Agnosticism is foundationally claiming ignorance and denial in the idea of something very apparent throughout history [God]. Atheism is the more thought-through of the two disbeliefs in God because it acknowledges that God may certainly exist, but in belief He does not. I believe He— he does not.

"Thoughts on.." Prologue & Part One- Abortion

I present to you a thought-provoking internet survey that thousands have copied and pasted all across the web for years. Although entirely irrelevant, and I add this in for humor purposes only; I imagine this survey has been responded to on more blogging websites as opposed to networking websites such as Myspace. Considering the level of intelligence I believe it requires to post slutty pictures as opposed to forming actual explanation of one's thought, though that is just my guess.

     My goal—as always—was to make this distinguishing and riveting to the reader, so I must inform you that I have answered all these questions before, but the twist is that I did so when I was only fifteen years old. Granted, there's a minute two year difference between the differing ages, but I hope it provides entertainment to have answers shown from both time periods. Unsurprisingly to me, majority of my opinions have remained the same, but for the ones that have, I am intrigued by.

     The survey covers fourteen very serious, commonly debated ethical issues of today's society, and I believe they deserve to be speculated upon solitarily due to their importance. Besides, I imagine people might feel furthermore encouraged to read my opinions on the topics if they're posted separately, as opposed to my original plan of responding to them all in a single entry. I know personally that I sometimes get a little put-off by a big wall of text, an entry of my own being a perfect example of what I mean. With all that said, I shall begin with the first topic, abortion.

Thoughts on..

Abortion 11/05/09 | Death Penalty | Prostitution | Alcohol

Gay Marriages | Illegal Immigrants | Downloading Music

Smoking | Drunk Driving | Cloning | Racism

Religion 11/13/09 | Premarital Sex | Porn

Abortion?

29 April 2008- A woman deserves the right to do what she wishes to with her body. Abortion should not be a form of birth control - that is selfish. Getting raped, that is a reason to have an abortion (but a choice). Or even just making a mistake at a young age. Regardless, its no ones choice but the woman's.

5 November 2009- My opinion remains the same in essence,—Don't use it as a form of birth control, abortion is justifiable with plausible reason. The only thing that's changed that was previously stated was that I do not believe it is solely the woman's choice on whether or not to follow through with an abortion.— but I do cogitate it to be relatively more hypothesized. At the age of fifteen, I hadn't been consequentially faced—thankfully—with the idea of personally having an abortion, so my perspective was only that of a spectator's, which is in reality worthless regarding this topic. It's factual that a woman cannot comprehend the idea of abortion without standing before the crossroads of choice on aborting or not aborting the cluster of cells swimming in her uterus.

     Coincidentally, just last night I happened to be speculating on the concept of abortion. I came dangerously close to convincing myself that I should start presuming my beliefs similar to those of parties pro-life. For a second in freelance conceptualizing, I selfishly declared that every creation should be provided an opportunity at life outside the womb, for they might possess the—personally—sought-after ability to add greatness and positivity to existing society. Morosely, the odds are slim. Those who have already—widely or narrowly, it doesn't matter—avoided being aborted find it so inconceivable to sacrifice their given lives—that could have not been given at all had their parent's made the opposite choice their final decision—to help others. In my opinion, unaborted individuals should be the one's most eager and inspired to be of service to fellow man, but it's also worth note that I have sworn to exploit my life for the benefit of others, making my vista basically paramount. I see it like this— a world void of abortion would increase the entire population. The numbers of those volitional to help others would inevitably go up as well, but they would have to cover a larger population, therefore rendering my theory pointless. Conclusory, we, the human race, cannot rely on the hope of one ultimate savior being born while worthless millions roam. We don't even know if that ultimate savior would ever be born.

     I do not yet want my ambiguous beliefs—there lies the reason why—to be criticized, so I shall vaguely reveal, only for comprehension purposes, that I strongly believe in the concept of a perfectly balanced pyramid system of all human beings, organized by personal purpose to the world, implemented or not. I lack belief in any variation of the definition of God. Personal religion is non-existent, I haven't yet figured out what I am to be considered, if anything at all. I find it heedless to waste valuable exuberance into the process of religious discovery, because the one thing I do know for sure is that regardless of whatever I choose the need to realize to believe in, I'll never know unquestionably if it's the truth. The only religious theorem as of now that I imagine to be personally everlasting, is the concept of saviors existing on Earth, for whatever reason or lack of.

Smoking During Pregnancy

(Originally written on March 16th, 2009. Posted to COSA18 on September 16th, 2009.)

     This is a topic that has bothered me for as long as I have been aware of smoking and pregnancy in general.

     I've seen it come up often in my life as of late, I'm older, and more of my friends/acquaintances are having children. With that, people I know feel the need to smoke (some who aren't even 18, in which that case it's illegal), and don't care enough to quit while pregnant. Check out this quote from lungusa.org:

"Smoking-related diseases claim an estimated 438,000 American lives each year, including those affected indirectly, such as babies born prematurely due to prenatal maternal smoking and victims of "secondhand" exposure to tobacco's carcinogens."

     However, if you're smoking while pregnant I doubt the facts are going to get under your skin far enough to make you quit because you've probably heard it from others. Everyone knows that smoking can hurt developing babies, but sometimes that isn't enough.

     So from my own opinions, first of all smoking is absolutely disgusting, pregnant or not. You're really putting toxins up to your lips, and for what? To get through hard times? That's an excuse, because up until the moment you picked up your first cigarette you got through life without them (it doesn't matter how well you did, the fact is you did because you're still here). But today I'm not here to lecture you on your own health as much as I am about your unborn child's health. Here is another quote from ash.org:

"More than 60 percent of all crib deaths, also known as sudden infant death syndrome (SIDS), could be prevented if people stopped smoking around their babies and pregnant women, the report in the British Medical Journal said."

     If you read carefully, that's just around babies and pregnant women. I am absolutely positive the risks go up if you are the pregnant woman smoking! Not only that, it is positively selfish to smoke while pregnant, because not only are you harming yourself, but you are harming another human being that cannot get away from it. Do you really want to bring a child into the world who's body is telling them to get away from you? Smoking is toxic, and while it doesn't directly kill like heavier narcotics, it kills nearly half a million lives in just America due to related issues (as said in a quote above).

     Cutting down on cigarettes won't save your baby either. It's proven that those that force themselves to smoke fewer cigarettes inhale deeper when they do, equaling the effects of smoking more cigarettes with regular inhalation.

     If you're pregnant and you can't control yourself enough to stop smoking while pregnant, in my opinion you're not ready to be a mother. If you cannot control one extremely dangerous aspect of your life, and can't show self-control from the very beginning, how can you raise a child healthily with such personal bad habits? Children take lessons from their parents sub-consciously very early on. Do you really want your children to take after your horrible examples? Be honest with yourself. No matter how many times you tell your children or other people's children, "Don't smoke like I do, don't ever grow up and smoke," you're still showing by example—which delivers a stronger message—that smoking is okay.

     Abusing substances, and even alcohol, is horrible. However, there is hope. There are many ways and many people that are willing to help you overcome addiction, and you can take the first step today. If you decide today is the first day, or maybe you just want to see what it's about, try finding a Narcotics Anonymous meeting near you with this locator. Generally NA isn't typically for those that smoke just cigarettes, but if you're a pregnant woman smoking then I'm sure someone there has some advice or direction they'd be willing to offer.

     All in all, good luck with your baby. I hope you make the correct decision!