tinting my quiet moments.
It wasn't much of a conversation, not in the sense of body language or expression. It was twenty or thirty minutes of chatting on IM. And my Mother writes like I do, rather blunt.. but honest. More can be read from the preciseness and the things left out, the unanswered questions, re-directions.
I'm ABSOLUTELY aware of the misperceptions inherent in text expressions. So I give us both the benefit of the doubt. But man... it was all still so cold. Like steel in there. * going for my old robe, brb... sip a Jackncoke*
We've been estranged from eachother for long periods. Everytime we meet, it's like we understand eachother less. Especially in religion. I kept trying to make my point, but first, I had to admit something.
We've decided, Mom and I, that I must have a different God. Mine is a childish god who only wants us to love eachother and treat them as we want to be treated. Is Jesus his guy? maayyybe... but not all this power crap that came after it. ( And if you're reading and feel inclined to preach... please don't. Your response will be 'prove it or fuck off.')
Which, NO, I did not say to my mom! Nor did I tell her, I thought he didn't WANT to make his kingdom here on earth. How much more squarely can I place myself into her fear of hell?
I can only call it delusional, just between you and me. She expected me to admit being gay is against god. Like, yeah, I'm doing wrong, but I just can't help myself? Is she hoping for a deathbed conversion? I had to sort of break it to her that I really don't believe in her God. I called him mean and preaching hate.
then I immediately apologized for using the word hate.
this is my mother, from whom I have been estranged for many long periods.. and I'm telling her I don't believe in her god... and my heart is pounding like mad and fingers would barely type.
Which actually is happening again. I might finish this later.