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| When premies nudged me with their elbow |  | ||
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inviting me to share in self congratulation: to feel with them their sense of one-up-man-ship, I could not stand aloof with them, looking with blurry, half vision at the mere ordinary folk in the high street, doing their mundane things. I could no longer give the right answers, when they gave the maharaji yes sang. I could no longer support their idea that they were somehow a cut above the rest of humanity, so lucky, so holy. Their pity on the human race was not for their loneliness or their broken heartedness, not for the struggle of a single parent or the sorrow of one too young to know such pain. They pitied them with the same pompous religiosity as the disciples who thanked Jesus: "We thank thee Lord that we are not as other men." They pitied them for not having m and k. No one could have talked me out of it, I'm too argumentative for that. It was the premies themselves, bless their hearts, who talked me out of it. It is not so much the actual, blind pomposity: the indulgent self interest: the obsessive single subject world view; and many others too numerous to mention, which from each individual had increasingly disturbing effect. It was more the similarity that ran through them all. The common themes, same sentences, same words and phrases, same mind sets over and over again. And most sickening of all was when I thought I heard the faint echo of my own past words ringing from their lips. Perhaps it is self hate, but when I realised how much I had helped to perpetuate the myth I became ill. When, in my efforts, to still love God, during the process of my rejection; I sought refuge from my raging sorrow, like Quatermass, in the church, the premies ridiculed me. Of course, the same attempts to push belief on newcomers were rife there too, and strengthened by a few kind humans I moved on. The premies showed their true colours when they thought I had chosen another religion. But when I began to point out, not doubts, but well reasoned arguments that, to my logic, proved that the path of maharaji's knowledge just meanders nowhere, and especially when I began to hint that there were common undesirable traits that were quite easy to perceive in premies all across the board, they went at me from all sides. Now I am alone, my self esteem, self worth, and ability to go out and meet new people have been reduced to zero. No one talked me out of it, I left in my own time, the forums confirmed my realizations, and made me feel not so alone. I still need to repair my life, your names and lines of text on my computer are all I have now. I do not care so much for this argument with premies, I was not over a deep depression after Julie, and now I have to say, though I like Sean tremendously, in fact because I like him, as he seems here, I am not feeling good. I have steered clear of premies because they made me feel there was no point in living. This was my haven, a place in the corner of my own room where the loneliness had been pushed back. Because I love people and because I want to go outside again one day and live in the world again, and be a normal person again, I wish maharaji would stop this torture of souls. I want maharaji to stop this madness now and go 'home'; back to India, change his name, perhaps do gardening or something in Khatmandu. I have stood all I can bear. Perhaps this an appeal to Sean's compassion. Perhaps it is just an appeal to the human race or any one, I am only human. This has consumed most of my time on earth and all my natural joy and peace and high hopes for mankind. Now I don't know where to turn. Nothing is left. Only tears today. Lp Modified by LP at Sun, Jul 09, 2006, 03:09:01 |
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