I have little respect for PUAs in general. Regardless, I was somehow less disgusted by the hook up offer than I was by previous attempts by other guys – far more tame attempts, mind you.

Two weeks ago, when I was on the bus, this guy I recognized sat down next to me. How did I know the guy? He tried to flirtatiously start a foolish little conversation with me last year – same exact questions, same routine, on this same bus. The first time, I answered a question or two, before ignoring him completely and leaving him standing there with an unanswered question – the answer to which was none of his business. Apparently this guy completely forgot who I was, perhaps because he’s tried this little routine so many times that faces just don’t matter anymore. This time I decided to be less of a bitch, but I still found that I couldn’t be bothered to keep answering his slew of questions for long. It felt far too much like an interview – a forced one at that. And every time I looked at his face, I saw Maruf. I grew increasingly disgusted with him. Finally, to my relief, some random woman started arguing with the bus driver and our dull conversation abruptly ended there. I turned my head to the other direction and continued reading. I saw him turn back to me to resume the foolish conversation. I saw the way he eyed me. I refused to look into his direction. I just could not be bothered.

Why is it that I am somehow more disgusted by certain situations than others? Why is it that I’m more disgusted by certain guys more than others? Someone once suggested underlying racial preferences. I’d like to think this isn’t a race issue. Subconsciously, at least. Consciously, I can’t think of any reason why race would be an issue. Perhaps it has to do with relative level of comfort with said person and/or the level of preparedness at the particular time when they made the remark. I wish there were some logic behind this. Sometimes I feel as though I am overreacting like some kind of a raging man-hating lesbian.

Sometimes I wonder… How do people know that they are compatible for one another? Why do they feel they are compatible for another? What causes that initial “spark?” What do some people, whether they be male or female, gain from unrestricted sexual relations? Aside from the obvious, what makes it somehow more satisfying (to some) than a committed relationship?

I’m sure some of these questions apply in reverse, of course. For example, what do certain people gain from abstaining completely from loose sexual behavior? What is beneficial about being a prude, virgin, etc? And here are my answers: For starters, there’s a far lower risk of contracting an STD. Second, a committed relationship is far more appealing due to the stability and genuine love and affection that one would receive. Having one night stands and other types of casual encounters are fleeting and short lived. True love lasts.

Two mornings ago, remnants of the same dream came back to me. I was late so I brushed it off. What happened later that day frightened me. What I saw was just like the dream. The place, even the people… Up to now, I still have not come to terms with what it all means. It has been two days now and I still have not gotten over it. I stayed up all night wondering… why is this happening to me? Is it possible that the dream was foretelling a future event? Was the dream simply foretelling what I had saw that day? Or was it just that – a dream?

What is real? What is not real?

Like a child, I have cried all night…hating everything that I believe in, what I am, and what I have become. Part of what I heard that day was a prayer so deep, so profound… it resonated with everything that I felt – the questions, the hurt, that sense of desolation. I did not understand the language and I am not and never was a follower of the religion (nor do I plan to be one any time soon), yet it felt…comforting. At times like these, I wish I was a religious person, so that I would at least feel as though I had an answer to these questions or somewhere to turn to.

Upset, furious… Seething with anger and hatred.

Why do I trouble myself so? Perhaps living a life of isolation is to be embraced, not avoided. He himself once said he rather liked being alone, that he did not need to find anyone to feel whole. And I agreed with this logic. But what happened now? Must I agree? Disagree? When and why do these things happen? Did he foresee this? I think not. The timing is too close. Maybe it was a spur of the moment decision. Is that how these things work? Maybe he feels nothing, maybe it was not his decision to make.

C’est la vie.

Lately I’ve been doing lot of thinking. On people in my life and their life choices. Then reflecting back on my life and my choices. Why do people do the things they do? Why is it that someone who I felt I could relate to ended up being so completely opposite of what I initially thought? From someone so pure and innocent to someone so frighteningly, disturbingly…perverse.

I have also been rethinking my stances on certain issues. Over the years I went from believing firmly in a spirit world in sync with our own, to eventually phasing out of this altogether, perhaps even more so around the time of my true awareness as an atheist. It got me thinking, if I don’t believe in a god or some type of great spirit of sorts, and if I don’t believe in a heaven or a hell or whatever, then why do I believe that there is a life after death in the form of ghosts? It wasn’t adding up, so logic replaced gut feelings. Today, my aunt and uncle from abroad arrived. One of the first things that they start telling us about is how they saw a spirit man decked in black in their house twice earlier this week. First, my uncle was in his room and saw the man walk through an open door in his room. Their room is on the second floor and that door led out to a balcony outside. He shouted “GET OUT, GET OUT” and the man disappeared. The second time he appeared in their bedroom again. My aunt and uncle are not the type of people who would lie and make up such things. I have noticed their demeanor has changed since they came. It all frightens me. Sitting here in bed right now, I’m scared to turn off the lights or the computer. Why does something like this frighten me so? They are not tangible, therefore they cannot be real. That is the logic that I used with god, and I will keep it that way, but why is it that for me, this logic does not seem to hold true with spirits…

Maybe I once had a chance. Maybe I still have a chance. Or maybe I never had a chance to begin with. Maybe it’s all just some kind of fairytale that exists in my head. Nevertheless, it’s too late now. I have missed my chance, if there was even one to begin with. I need to let it go for good.

This was definitely not the first time this happened. The last time a group of women approached me at the bus stop and asked me if they could give me something to read. Another time, a woman waiting at the bus stop with me (who did not even know me) offered to pick me up on Sunday to go to church with her. I don’t see why she was waiting on the bus that day if she supposedly had a car that she could pick me up in, but I didn’t broach the subject further. I lied and said “Sure” and she was all bubbly and happy and gave me a slip with her phone number to call her. To be perfectly honest, I have never felt so creeped out in my entire life. Even when those random guys hollered and honked their horns at me from their cars like wild hyenas, foaming at the mouths with their “Hey sexy!” or the one curious comment of “I like your style!”, I still wasn’t nearly as scared as I was by that church woman. Another time, many years ago, I was on the bus and this woman sitting down handed me a pamphlet and I stared blankly at it and back at her. “Read it, it’s good for you.” I said nothing and simply left it on the seat and left the bus a few stops later. Yeah, it’s good for me, but I think it’s even better for you. Practice what you preach, my dear.

Countless weekends these groups of people clad in black suits and dresses come knocking at the doors. I don’t answer it. I don’t have the guts to spit in their face. I’ll end up staring, blankly, while they try to proselytize. But deep down inside, I just don’t care. I don’t care about your Watchtower. I don’t care about your “message.” I don’t care about your “god.” I wish I had the balls that this guy does. It’s Saturday, don’t these people have something better to do? Go to church and pray if you want to, but please leave the rest of us alone. Please.

Sometimes these “good, church-going people” can be some of the most frightening. One time I was at the bus station waiting around 20 minutes for the bus. All the while, this middle-aged woman with a gigantic cross around her neck was spinning in circles screaming “JESUS!!!!!” Everyone went about doing their business, acting like a woman whirling around like a top screaming “JESUS” for at least 20 minutes straight is a perfectly normal occurrence. Well, in NYC, it sure is, but I digress. Another time I was on the bus and this elderly woman with a huge cross painted in black down the middle of her face started preaching to everyone on the bus. Everyone either looked out the window or down into their lap, ignoring the Christ-preaching looney.

The bottom line is this: I don’t understand why people need to force their beliefs onto other people. Keep your beliefs to yourself. I don’t go around telling you that you worship a statue made of stone or a man who exists in fairytales in a big fat book called The Bible. No, I keep my beliefs to myself and you should keep yours to yourself too. The truth is, no one really knows for sure, so why slam your opinions in my face? Why preach your beliefs to the non-believers as if it were fact? As for the question you ask on those silly little pamphlets of yours: “IS THERE A GOD?” The answer to that is a big fat “NO!” Maybe I’ll paint that in black on my forehead too, so the next time you ask me if I believe in God or if you ask me if I want something to read, I’ll have the answer predetermined for you.

What if our galaxy is within an infinite number of “galaxies?” What I mean is what if our galaxy is like a grander version of our solar system? In other words, the solar system is a minute speck in the Milky Way galaxy. Our galaxy is one of many galaxies in the universe. What if each galaxy in the universe was the equivalent of a “solar system” among many solar systems in an even grander structure, and that grander structure is a spec of another network in an even greater system…? True, one cannot know or even fathom to comprehend these things. It is beyond the limited human knowledge and understanding.

Just the other night, I bumped into this article titled, “Every Black Hole Contains Another Universe?” This particular reading further set my thoughts in motion. What if a black hole is, in essence, a portal to yet another universe? Curious theory, but quite possible.

So what exactly is the universe? Infinitely expanding? One of an infinite number of universes inside of an infinite number of universes? Can entering a black hole lead to yet another universe…? Can there truly be such a thing as “another universe?”

Then part of me wonders, if there is a god, where does he reside? I am almost certain that he does not reside on Mount Olympus nor on the Moon or in the Sun. So where is he? In the Kuiper Belt? In the Oort Cloud? At the center of the Milky Way? In Andromeda? Outside of the realm of the universe? Through a black hole in yet another universe? Or, from a pantheistic view of things, is he one with the universe?

Lately I have been feeling…indescribable. Like words just aren’t enough to describe my feelings. Part of me is apathetic to the world around me. These days the cool midnight spring air has this wonderful calming effect to it. The whole world is asleep and nothing can be heard but the stillness of the night. Those beautiful early dawn hours…4…5…6 am. It makes me feel like I’m living in a dream… detached from all the world. Apathetic. Then there is the part of me that feels worried. The end is approaching, like death on his chariot. One will be my downfall. Then I’ve been feeling lethargic. Like nothing could make me budge an inch. Then there is all this anger and rage building inside… gradually building while I wear this faux smile. And finally…there is the part of me that I thought was dead. I feel those strange foreign feelings being rekindled. Butterflies in the stomach, that patter in my chest. Feelings, I killed you already. Why why why… I wish I had been born without a heart. Then I wouldn’t feel this way.

“Come, you spirits
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here,
And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full
Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood;
Stop up the access and passage to remorse,
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between
The effect and it! Come to my woman’s breasts,
And take my milk for gall”
- Lady Macbeth

I have found myself obsessed with you once again. That same strange feeling that I felt so long ago. That feeling that I tried so hard to kill… it has all came back again. I do not understand how this could be possible. I thought it ended….faded…completely went away. But it has not. I feel so sick in the stomach right now. What is it that I see in you… I have never fallen for one quite like you before…never ever. Never.

Maybe I cannot blame Maruf, in a way. False love can be a hard thing to control. He perceives me to be some great “beauty” in his eyes (although I must admit the poor fellow must be blind), but fails to see all else. I hate this. Yet, at the same time, the one that I have fallen madly for, admittedly, is no “great beauty.” I did not fall for his appearance. Similarly, much as Maruf does not truly know me, I do not know him. But there is something that I see. Things that I have always said I looked for…this one is none or falls short. He is so far off from the others. What is it that I see in you. It is a feeling so strange…so bizarre…

Indescribable.

“Do not believe in anything simply because you have heard it. Do not believe in anything simply because it is spoken and rumored by many. Do not believe in anything simply because it is found written in your religious books. Do not believe in anything merely on the authority of your teachers and elders. Do not believe in traditions because they have been handed down for many generations. But after observation and analysis, when you find that anything agrees with reason and is conducive to the good and benefit of one and all, then accept it and live up to it.” – Buddha

Sometimes I just think about some of the feats achieved by other atheists and it amazes me. Ayaan Hirsi Ali, Salman Rushdie, and so forth. I realized that atheism is something that can be followed by just about anyone in virtually any place.

Take, for example, Yasser George.

Yasser George is the pseudonym an Arab atheist originally from Saudi Arabia, but has since fled (last time I checked, it was to Egypt, I don’t know where he is at the moment). For those who didn’t know, atheists are subject to execution in Saudi Arabia. In the following video, Yasser George makes a bold move: he narrates a video on the absurdity of religion in (of all places) the holy city of Mecca (in Saudi Arabia).

While it may not seem like much to some people, just think for a moment. Here is Yasser George, an ex-Muslim and an atheist in Saudi Arabia, a place where one can be executed for being an atheist, standing in the holy city of Mecca. Think about the paradox of it all. Here is a man who is, more or less, risking his life for his (dis)beliefs.

When I see people perform such brave feats, it makes me wonder, why is it that I am so worried about people knowing that I am an atheist? I live in the United States and, last time I checked, I don’t think I can get executed for being an atheist. If people can risk their lives for their convictions, why is it so difficult for me just to be able to admit such a thing to anyone else? Pure cowardice, on my part. Nevertheless, here I will remain, a closet atheist cloaked under a shroud of mystery.

“Atheism is more than just the knowledge that gods do not exist, and that religion is either a mistake or a fraud. Atheism is an attitude, a frame of mind that looks at the world objectively, fearlessly, always trying to understand all things as a part of nature.” – Carl Sagan

After reading the work of fellow atheists, I have been considering several things as of late. For one, I realize that I don’t seem to ever explain to anyone, even myself, why exactly it is that I am an atheist. I realize that unlike many other atheists that I have encountered, I was never a religious person to begin with and I didn’t have an epiphany and suddenly realize that I had been in the dark for a long time. The truth is, I feel as though due to my upbringing and living in a not-so-religious household and being the product of parents from different religious backgrounds (although practicing one religion), the transition hasn’t been so hard for me. Honestly, I don’t think I ever really believed in god to begin with. From a young age I questioned many things, such as where do people go when they die, how was the universe created, and (in response to my mom’s answer of “god created the universe”), who created god? I was always a skeptic and deep inside, I never really believed in anything, but I always identified with the religious beliefs of my parents for one of many reasons, including the fear of being excluded and marginalized in society, among other things. It wasn’t until my mid-teens, back when I was in high school, that I finally openly admitted to myself what I was and what I am and what I will always be: an atheist.

Over the years, despite being more or less in the closet about my beliefs (or rather, lack thereof), I have heard many taunts and retorts from people, peers and even friends. I have had one “friend” who stopped talking to me simply on the basis of me being an atheist (keep in mind, never once did I try to boast about it nor did I ever poke fun at her beliefs… she asked what I was and I told her), believing me to be misguided or “going to hell.” I have had another “friend” who actually was bold enough to tell me, “You’re not really an atheist!” Why is that, I wondered. “You have morals and you are too good to be an atheist!” Well, fuck you. Some of the most righteous people I have met in my life have been atheists. I don’t need to believe in your god to be “moral” and “righteous.” Ever heard of secular humanism?

I was just reading an article called Passive vs. Aggressive Atheism: Which Path is Best? I would like to think of myself more as a passive atheist than an aggressive one, since I more or less don’t really care to argue against religion or god or…anything for that matter. Come to think of it though, I might just be both passive and aggressive, since the article states:

Of course, it’s possible for a person to adopt both perspectives, depending upon the context. A person might be more combative when it comes certain religious forms but less combative with others. Let’s face it, there are forms of religion which may be wrong and irrational, but also aren’t immediately dangerous in any political or social sense. Indeed, it may be necessary for atheists to make common cause with adherents of such religions in order to achieve basic political goals like securing the separation of church and state.

Well, that does make sense. I find myself more sympathetic at times with adherents of “minority” religions, while I tend to get more worked up about the “majority.” Take it however you want to take it. I think that my logic behind this is (subconsciously) for a mix of many reasons. I feel as though some groups in this world try to convert and assimilate others so that we’re all this amalgamation of sorts. I feel as though, despite being an atheist, I still want to hold on very tightly to what is dear to me: my roots, culture, history, ancestors. Deep inside, I do not want to be assimilated into this “western world.” I do not want to feel as though I am betraying my ancestors or my culture or myself for that matter by rejecting their beliefs. Maybe it is for these reasons that sometimes I don’t bother to try to criticize the religion of my forefathers. Something about it feels very wrong to me. While I do find religion to be absurd, I feel as though openly criticizing one particular religion would be like degrading a particular group or entity or individual. I also feel rather uneasy hearing people (atheist or not) bashing or agreeing with the bashing of the former religion of someone else of another background because (in my eyes) it seems as if they have no place to. It seems as if they are doing that out of hatred and a lack of tolerance more than anything else. Likewise, I feel as though criticizing the beliefs of my ancestors would be like degrading myself. While I do not and will not criticize others for their well-written commentaries on the negative aspects of a certain religion, these are just my reasons for why I personally do not bother to criticize a particular religion.

After all those years of not knowing, I now know for sure what I am: an atheist. Yet, even now, I keep feeling as though there is something missing from my life. NO I am not trying to imply that I need god or religion or anything like that. I just feel that there is something more I can be doing with my life at the moment. What is it that I am searching for…what is it that still makes me feel so lost…