Is it bad that I don’t?
Just the concept of heaven and hell is open to so much discussion, controversy and conflict that will forever breech a line between fanaticism and rationalism. I don’t want to get entangled with that kind of sh*t. So, I will always remain very Switzerland in this and veer as far away as I can from being stoned to death [virtually].
I was born and raised as a Catholic. My mother would probably give me the eternal stink-eye when I she gets wind of my views on this life-long debacle of “what’s there in the afterlife”?
With all the indoctrination, catechism and long, boring homilies I’ve endured since I learned how to listen and be susceptible to brainwash, I now wonder: Will I ever get to paradise if I continue to doubt its existence?
My overactive imagination will always take over, of course. It poses a very clear problem of being routed to paradise after death and that would be the lack of clothing. Yes . . . yes . . . people will probably conk my head for thinking so literally. But hey! I can’t stop my mind from thinking of nudists parading their stuff all around the garden of Eden now, can I?
“We’re not all made to appear as an extra in Game of Thrones without dropping their viewership ratings, you know.”
Because of this idea, I then had a very disturbing dream of me frolicking in Eden in my birthday suit. Nightmare! I wouldn’t even have an opportunity to have some alcohol in my system to dilute the sense of embarrassment of flaunting my wares to the public. I need to hit the gym, cut down on the carbs and live on high protein, sugar-free diet so I’ll be ready if ever providence deem me worthy to join the nudist revue in Eden.
Now . . . that’s a H-U-G-E problem.