Jesus Christ: Imaginary Friend

I recently visited Lourdes in France. Famous as a destination point for many a Christian pilgramage. Claiming healing waters discovered by Saint Bernadette.
Strange place indeed.
Personally I would class myself as Pagan/Wiccan/Gaianist or whatever you'd call it. I have never been a Christian or a member of any organised religion, I used to have quite a problem with that religion til I realised it was the people who scare me, not the doctrine.
The Bible has some really good ideas as far as I or anyone should be concerned but to weaponise a good narrative and demand the world conform can't be what was intended when those stories were written.
As brilliantly explained in Kevin Smith's 'Dogma'. A good idea is fine, just don't build a belief system on it. Ideas change, adapt and get better. A belief is final.

Back to Lourdes, which once was an impressive product of faith and has at some point been wrapped in gold leaf, resulting in that Vegas-Luxor-Casino look. Which is kind of travelling down the road to my point really: faith astounds me, religion scares me.
Walking through that place was unnerving to be frank but it was when we reached the chapel of St Bernadette at the top of the church. Stepped through the doors and down what felt like a very narrow, long corrider leading to the chapel. Walking down, my heart sped up and upon opening the inner glass door, I had a feeling that can only be described as 'wrong'. I tried to walk through the door and it just got worse. It felt like seeing something really gorey in a film and while you don't want to, you cant help but imagine it happening to you. Instinctively you feel the edge of that pain in your head and then physically you do that whole body crumble and make the shuddery noise. Like men seeing someone take a shot in the balls. Just wrong, I turned about and walked just short of a run, back out onto the terrace.

I'm a huge lover of science. Always will be and always have been. Physics, astro-physics, quantum mechanics, chemistry, biology, astronomy.
I also believe in a higher power of sorts, or rather a spiritual side to life, not specifically higher. In my mind its completely undefined. It simply is, and that certainty is a source of comfort and strength.
I have a little scientist in my head saying that that is absolute twaddle but it doesnt matter. My faith could be described as a psychological tool. It provides a level of structure and safety, comfort and strength. It doesnt matter if that comes from believeing in a God(s), the effect is what matters. And while that effect is positive, faith should be encouraged.
Within your own body, the mind is king, and if that king has a god on his side. He'll fight with everything he has.
State of mind alone, the effect it has on your body chemistry, is proven.
Anything that strengthens that state of mind, can only be good.

I think I get into this thinking easier than some because I think your faith should be a personal thing, you and your god/spirit/ancestor/prophet. No churches, or publication, no preaching. I'm not even that comfortable with group prayer but I also can't find a problem with it. Its just not my thing.

I am a scientist and I have faith. Could've just said that at the start, sorry.

Blessed Be

BB

XY

MEN!
Well... same old thing innit.
I want a guy but I excel in fucking it up, even if the particular method by which I fuck it up, is that I pick a vile specimen of a man in the first place.
I love being with someone, its brilliant having a boyfriend.
Not mad keen on the whole sex malarky but I can get past that once in a while if it keeps them happy. Lay back and think of England. Or Montauk. Depends where my heads at but anyway-

Between cheating on someone because they were massively distrusting/chronically paranoid I would, breaking up with people because they've said "I love you" when I'm not ready to hear it, and making that all time favourite blunder: going out with someone because you're lonely. Oh and another blinder: going out with someone part-time because I knew if I got drunk I'd easily stray.
I'm not sure if I qualify for a boyfriend. I'm either unbaked cookies and simply not ready for them or I simply don't deserve one right now. But I'm really happy when I'm with someone.

Once upon a time I fell in love with two very different men, at the same time. It still baffles me to this day. So very different but both made me very very happy for a time- and both were not a good fit. One short, one tall- one safe, one passionate- one caring, one hurtful- one clear, one vague.
As is the curse of gays and women alike, I chased the vague, mysterious one, the one that hurt. The safe one made me feel old but his arms felt like home. The passionate one was only passionate while I interested him, after that it was too late. Wasn't his fault, I was in love.
Oooh this bowl is much too sweet. Bleh, this bowl is far too salty...

Where the hell is my "just right"?
Having said that, I am a plonker, a total dick at times. I don't really have the right to demand anything. And the fact that I know/recognise/confess this, does not make me a better or enlightened guy. I guess it just means I'm ok with calling myself a wanker.

I can be loyal though, I didn't believe that myself but I tested it out and I can. I've even seen me be a really nice boyfriend. Treated as I would like to be treated.
I just seem to get screwed or worse still, pissed off by having picked the wrong guy and become the screwer.

Maybe I should just leave a pile of application forms somewhere with a forwarding address, sit back and see how many people are willing to take a risk on me. Having said that I'm pretty damn insecure so I'd have to find a job that allowed me to spend all time sat infront of the letterbox.

Wanted: Laid back but creatively romantic man with a low libido. GSOH preferrable but not necessary. MUST like kisses and cuddles. I purr and burble when happy so those who find that creepy or odd, probably shouldn't apply.

Blessed Be

BB

Origins

From a hill in the Lake District, watched over by Venus. To a sofa in the middle of nowhere- masterminding a career where I become anyone other than myself. But what does it all mean? Will an answer be found? Will there be ears to hear it, will there be lips to speak it?
Will anyone care?
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Thats a shit start, I'm actually a little angry at my fingertips for having produced that start. There should be more punch, more certainty and a lot more glam.
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My name is BB Obscene and I live La Vie de Gaga!
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Now thats an opening sentence!
True to say I am somewhat in awe of the Lady, more than a little. Walking art is not to be sniffed at in this day and age. I just saw a tv listing for a god forsaken sky channel that was about to air a programme entitled "Jade: A Year Without Her". Lady Gaga is hope against such drivvel.
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So I suppose I should start by saying a bit about myself before I engage in full on blogging, egotistically spewing my thoughts into the world wide web on the vague assumption that someone might read them.
As you may have gathered by now, I am an aspiring actor, I have an audition for the RSAMD in 3 weeks time- at present it is my one path. Hopefully it will not be a dead end.
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As a child I felt more comfortable around adults than peers, I loved to dress up which has proved to be a dead give away to who I have become, I grew up around cats and dogs and hippies. I was a very happy child. I liked trees.
As a teen it became apparent I was mentally unwell and my mother got me the help I needed. She saved me. Since then I have gotten over my hatred for human beings, men and recently my father. Unfortunately I didn't have the good sense to do this before he died last december.
As a young man at 22 years old, I still feel like a child- just somewhat dented now. I love to act- the cynic in me says this is because I often don't like the person I've become. The optimist says its because I got to know myself quicker than most, comfortable in my own head so now I long to wander through others, like I'm adventuring across glacial mindscapes. Perhaps its both, perhaps neither. One day I'm a sociopath, the next I'm a south african grey parrot called Dudley.
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I also love to write, it lets your mind rest- coincidentally I also love sleeping.
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I'm still pretty useless with people. I've never been great at staying in touch with the dear friends I have. On a very base level I seem to operate on the assumption that neither I or my friends will change in the absence and that when we come together: it'll be like it always is- it never is though. In the past two years I felt a lot of loss at the people I simply no longer speak to, which I've now realised is a part of growing up. Your social circles dont break apart, they just get refined. Until you're left with the people you really loved the whole time but none of the endless almost-friends that Facebook keeps telling me to write to. We could up-date each other time and time again but we're not from each other lives and never will be- the point we were connected is long gone. The threads led away from each other, with little likelyhood of being joined again. Not to be mourned, just fondly remembered.

Frankly I've waffled enough for one entry. So I'll leave you (whoever you may be) with that.
Tune in next time folks .
As always, Blessed Be.

BB