Why is it that even though I am a casual and unapologetic atheist and I despise practically everything about the institution of Roman Catholicism, I still feel guilt–as if I were a traitor–when I see the faithful bearing ashes on their foreheads…?
Already into Lent. Fasting is easy, but what shall I sacrifice?
Yahweh is capricious and cruel, and the nuns told me that His cruelty is refining, but I never believed that bullshit for a second. Even when I was ten years old, I didn’t believe it. It has to be one of the most transparent lies ever concocted.
I’ll attend Mass on Palm Sunday. It’s the only service I go to voluntarily.