For the record, I used to be religious. Very religious, which likely isn�t a surprise for some of you. It�s typically those who hold the church and god closest to their hearts that become their most staunch antagonists. It was at an early age that I truly found God. And by found, I mean.. found him dead at my feet, so to speak.

Now, don�t get me wrong, I owe a lot of it to the evil people that ran the Baptist church in Fortworth Texas. Their vileness lead to my questioning the house of God, along with certain logic failures in various dogma. For example, that the meek shall inherit the Earth. Even at the age of 6, I couldn�t understand why being weak put you in a higher standing. Why must I be humble? Why cannot I be proud and willful? But I�m straying, my point isn�t to tell my story of how I came to murder God and free myself from the poison.

After I lost �faith� (I like to remind people to actually look up that word now and then) it, necessarily, left me lost. It was the first great existential crisis of my life, of which I�ve had two. Now, a young mind cannot really grasp certain concepts but I can look back and recognize the god-shaped hole for what it was, the lack of meaning and or purpose. (Why would a kid be concerned about purpose when there were toys to play with and days to waste? Only under very brutal conditions.)

Another facet of religion was the comfort of it, if I were to describe how someone�s relationship with God should have been, I would describe it like Geoff�s entry but instead of women, it would be God... obviously.

Around that same time of my life, my domestic life was terrible and brutal. It had a strong effect on who I am today and I don�t necessarily regret it, but my experiences led me to vow to love, cherish and care for those close to me, instead of beat, ridicule and abuse them. It was the seed that formed my future purpose in life. This meaning, these goals, were na�ve and immature but such things can be expected from one as young as I.

But nevertheless, I carried this vow that my replacement for god would be the love of a woman.

I mean, let�s face it, women are the most incredible creatures on the planet? When I am the object of ones affection; I�m taller, smarter, sexier, and essentially a better person.

And then the second existential crisis was upon me, only a few short years ago. But looking back upon it, and again reflecting on Geoff�s diary entry, it�s amazing how one so completely took the place of the other. I, of course, knew it was a na�ve and immature way to look at life and the meaning of such, but I also held some notion that I was able to actually pull it off. That I was capable of so much love when I chose to give it, that I could make the desire become a reality through sheer willpower.

Many of my closest friends realize what a disastrous notion THAT was! Yeah, sitting in the hospital diagnosed with some rare blood disease, I was convinced that I was indeed healthy, but that I was merely dying of a broken heart. But it was more then a broken heart; it was a broken faith in an ideal. I had lost religion a second time and this time one that meant more to my core being then some ritualistic babble to a young kid. This time it was not I who had slain God, but God who slew me.

So, reflecting back upon it all I see that I was grasping. Grasping for some alleviation from the suffering and torment of existence, as melodramatic as that may sound.

Don�t get me wrong, I still certainly think that a bonding between two people can still be the greatest reward and aspiration for ones life, but only if that pairing is an integration between mind and emotion.

But a person�s life is not dependant upon that pairing for their life to be full of meaning. If you were to pay attention to Victor Frankl�s line of thought, you could even go so far as saying that the suffering and lack of that bonding could be the very key thing that makes your life meaningful in that the bravery you face such loneliness and suffering. It�s a matter of perspective. (I�d also like to point out that only in unavoidable suffering can one derive any amount of meaning, there is no meaning in undergoing avoidable suffering, that�s just masochistic.)

What is the meaning of my life? I�m not so sure I know yet. It�s a �day by day� thing and I�m growing fonder of that as I go. I have aspirations, as most of you know, so it�s not like I�m seeking the Freudian �will to pleasure�, and I certainly have my nihilistic moments of doom and gloom, typically late at night and by products of loneliness mixed with chronic insomnia, but for the most part, I�m easing into a slightly more comfortable rhythm.

And yes, I realize there may not be a specific point in this entry insofar as going beyond simple introspection. I was merely reading Geoff�s post about his frustration and longing for something that I�m not so sure exist, not in that context. It reminded me of my own struggle with God and Love. The bible and church, along with pop culture romance idealism. Which misleads more?

Here�s to the god-shaped hole in all of us.

-G