samistheman79's blog: "blog"

When human consciousness evolves sufficiently the need and purpose for religion will evaporate. Spirituality is very real. To deny spirituality would be to deny ourselves. Religion is a man-made device created by men who needed something to believe in. It is a farce. A mystical explanation was needed to give reasoning to a newly developed world view with a newly developing thought process. Don't get me wrong now most of what I believe in could be described as mystical or mythical but this a different point for consideration.

When I was born into this life, my parents were Jehovah's Witnesses. Before you discount my further statements, understand that my adult world view could not be further from the one I was born into. As a child I was fully enveloped in the ministry of said religious purpose. My mom taught me to read by the time I was four. By age five I was proficient enough for public speaking. At age six I was reading and preaching from the bible on a stage in front of Hundreds of people at a time. by age 10 I was devoting 90 hours a month into the full-time field service ministry. Yes I was knocking on doors with a biblical vengeance.

At puberties mid point my parents split up. It all happened so fast that even local witnesses to this day claim they have no idea how it all took place. One day the shackles that had held my mind captive were suddenly broken. I was like Saul on the road to Damascus when he was blinded then healed by the angel and the scales fell from his eyes and he became the apostle Paul.

Just because I am well-versed in Christian mythology does not mean I am a christian or that I identify with any christian religion, quite to the contrary in fact.

After I stepped away from the church and looked at things with my own eyes that had only just been opened. I took a journey through all that the worlds religions had to offer. Religion is all essentially the same. It all goes back to ancient ritual based on survival myth designed by newly opened consciousness seeking to explain what it could not see.

The JW's contacted me as a young adult trying to recruit me back into the fold. I told them what I thought about religion in general and them in particular. I did not bash their faith. My comments were directed to the people who approached me as individuals, since I had known most of them for my entire life, I felt it was suitable for me to get personal. As a result I was declared an apostate. They view me as in a similar league to the Catholic version of the anti-Christ. I don't assimilate myself as the Anti-Christ. To me that is no more or less valid than the God's on Mt. Olympus, or Valhallah.

If you want to take a biblical approach and decide to take the "path less taken", then you would have to go against the grain completely, and renounce all religion and ritual. The similarities inherent in ever religion, drawing christianity and satanism into the same flock, show that the broad road with many branches is religion it is government it is going with the flow, it is being one with the common denominator, it is a bad idea.

I got to watch my whole world come crumbling down around me. I stood alone in the aftermath wondering how I would rebuild my life out of the rubble that was left.

Things had been going very well for me for quite some time. I was the go to guy in my field at work. My coworkers and management all respected and liked me. Any time an unforseen problem needed an expedient solution, Sam was the man with the plan.

Every weekend I hosted incredible dinner parties and bar-b-que's. Sometimes I would not even bother to announce a party until just a few hours before. People would cancel their other plans just to come enjoy my food and company.

I even got up the will to quit smoking cigarettes after fifteen years of  heavy smoking on a daily basis.

Everything started to change when the mother of my children decided she didn't want to take her medication any more. I was supportive of her decision, because I have always been a fan of the slogan "meditate, don't medicate."  She went the route of self-medication through booze and narcotics, instead of the transcendental chant of powerful thought I was urging her towards.

Eventually our friends didn't want to hang out with us anymore. Soon our families stopped coming as frequently. Then only our mothers were willing to come over for anything other than a holiday or birthday party.

When she told me she was unhappy and wanted a divorce I begged her to go to marriage counseling. She refused to even talk about counseling. I signed up for free a marriage counseling newsletter online. It was sent to my inbox twice a week. I learned a lot. She was very unreceptive when I tried to share the things I was learning. It wasn't what she wanted to hear.

I knew when she started seeing the other man. The warning signs were all there. She denied it to me, and is even still lying about it now. Truth be told I saw the whole thing in a dream. I knew all of this was going to happen right from the start, but was powerless to stop it.

All of a sudden the most stressfull month of my life so far, statistically speaking of course, was upon me. In a span of about four weeks: my job was outsourced to China, My 2 1/2 year old son showed me proof that his mom was cheating on me, she demanded I move from my house and let her keep my car, I move in with my youngest brother, and my Grandma died. Every thing went boom all within about a 28 day period.

Now she is pregnant from her 19 year old boy friend. He is living in MY house, and I believe selling drugs out of it. She is going around to everyone she knows and spreading lies about me. He just got fired from his cashier job for selling to a minor. She is on the verge of having her hours drastically cut because she is pregnant and has a history of miscarriage and still-birth.

She picked up my children to take them for the night and was talking about how she's afraid for her job, and wants me to help her more. I am just really pissed that she thinks it is okay for her to try to make me feel obligated to help her out of the mess she made for herself. I said it to her and I say it hear too. She is not my problem anymore. Lying to me Cheating on me and deciding not to be married to me, were her decisions and they are the nicest things she has ever done for me.

We would have made a great lunch for the devilish beast, but gods willing this wasn't to be our fate.

It was a beautiful day for playing in the water, especially near the sandbar by Pineda Causeway. This was a special time in a special place. When the tide was just right and the weather was nice, the sandbar would have a great length above the water. It was almost like a tiny beach with little baby sized waves crashing gently on its shore.

I always loved exploring this little treasure trove of childhood adventure land. We used to play Swiss Family Robinson and Robinson Crusoe. It was a place where imagination had a wonderful boost from nature to kick things into high gear.

One particular adventure was in our old canoe. During low tide the water could get so shallow in spots that even the canoe could run hard aground.

My sister and I were out with our dad just enjoying the beauty of the day on the water. Dad seemed nervous at one point and started rowing a little more earnestly than necessity should justify. As we passed underneath the bridge and gained sunlight at the northern end, I saw the cause for my fathers concern.

An immense sting ray had been following us. It had to have a wingspan of well over 6 feet. Our canoe hit a partially submerged rock, and stuck for a moment. The devilish beast began to quake. It was intent on overturning our boat. As a five year old boy, the tail alone on this ray was as long as I was tall, and the poison barb was the size of my arm.

My sister and I were frozen with fear, and just at the moment of our last despair, dad stepped calmly out of the canoe with an oar in his hand and laid one good smack on that beast right between its beady little eyes.

If you have ever seen a sea creature go cross-eyed, and faint when struck with a blow to the head, you were standing too close. This monster sank slowly to the shallow bottom and could bother us no more.

It was a long time before we went out again in our old canoe.

To live by the sea and not die, means to trust the sea and know the sky. There was a multitude of clever sayings about life on the water, but being half of a two man crew under constant sail lent plenty of time to think of my own.Only fictional characters could be painted as accurate portrayals in the depth of solitude that was mine.

We fancied ourselves as the "fly by the seat of your pants" sort of men, who always find more trouble than that which was sought. Our attitudes would bring our adventure. Gods willing there was plenty of that.

The first major voyage on our homely vessel took us south along the Intracoastal Waterway into the West Coast of the Florida Keys. We were aboard an ancient 26 foot catalina with a 40 foot mast. The newest part of the ship was her engine which had been rendered obsolete before I was born.

We were too proud to rely on such trivial things as charts. Our navigational instrument was the compass, and our radio was used to request bridge openings. 

Jupiter Federal Bridge was one of several near fatal days that should have been my very demise. The first bridge we passed we called back on the radio to ask the name of the next bridge in line, so that we could call ahead to request an opening. This worked splendidly up until shortly after Fort Pierce. A bridge tender told us that the next bridge in line was called Lantana. We had a good wind that day and had little use for the motor as we were clipping along quite briskly. Once a spell passed that suggested we should be nearing a bridge around the next corner, we started calling ahead. "Lantana, this is sailing vessel 'first today' you should see us coming round the corner within the next few minutes, requesting draw-bridge opening as soon as we're in your sites." The call back was "10-4 first today, we are watching for you now."

As we neared the bend the current started to pick up. This was Jupiter Inlet, and the tide was incoming. We rounded the bend in a rush of white water less than twenty yards from the bridge.

With nary a spoken word from either of us, dad cranked the motor and gunned it in reverse, while I untied both sails and ran to leap from the bow of the boat onto the rapidly approaching pilings guarding the bridge.

If the ancient engine that had a foil-lined cardboard milk carton in place of a head gasket had failed to catch for even a nanosecond longer I would have been crushed on the piling by the weight of natures force in my half squatting attempt to save our ship.

Just as I felt myself reaching the bursting point my legs straightened out and I stood up against the boat and stepped back onto the deck as the bridge reached our minimal clearance requirement. We passed through with barely a hairs-breadth remaining.

The bridge tender called us on our way through and said "Hey 'first today', we just changed your name to last today, we're shutting it down now."

I didn't bother to radio back to remind him that its bad luck to change a ships name.

My dad passed away on June fourth of the year two thousand four. He had been ready to go for a long time, but some of us had not been ready to let him. We had been through a lot together maybe more than most father son combos should be allowed. On my 17th birthday, October 25th of 1996, he attempted suicide, and told me it was my fault. I almost killed myself on that day. What stopped me from taking my life and caused me to save his was nothing short of a miraculous display of the powers that be. I somehow pulled open the door of the locked car and pulled his life-less bulk from the front seat. I performed CPR on him for over 30 minutes before he came back. He was a miserable man after that, and I let him blame me for his misery. We didn't talk much about that incident. There even came to be a time when he began to deny that it ever happened. One night near the end of May, five years ago to be precise, we sat down together. He not only for the first time admited to me that he actually did that to me, but he apologized to me. He cried, and asked me to forgive him. He told me that it was the one thing he ever wished he could take back. I looked in his face, and refused to forgive him. That was the last time I ever saw him alive. June fourth is one of the most painful days for me, and probably will be for a long time to come. I wish I could go back in time so I could make things right.

The tree was my best friend so I killed him.

Chopped his family to the ground,

to make myself a home.

In this spot lies a parking lot

where all dreams go to be forgot.

The memory fades, but the stains never wash away

Now broken, alone, thrown from my home.

Only the devils play.