<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23416332</id><updated>2011-04-21T13:15:05.637-07:00</updated><title type='text'>whereelseshallwego</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereelseshallwego.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23416332/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereelseshallwego.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mold Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02645486895986134095</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>7</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23416332.post-114755831330661039</id><published>2006-05-13T14:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-13T15:24:22.213-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's 'Ave A Larf!</title><content type='html'>I read this hilarious report from a journalist who helped introduce the Beatles to marijuana for the first time. And he pretty much changed the face of rock 'n roll after that event. He and Bob Dylan showed up at the Beatles hotel and introduced them to pot in August of 1964. Apparently, all of the Beatles were laughing uncontrollably the entire time. Paul McCartney made the comment that he was "really thinking for the first time." After that event, John Lennon would call up this guy and instead of saying "Let's get stoned" or "Let's smoke some weed" he would say "Let's 'Ave A Larf!" It's really good reading for your spare time. &lt;a href="http://www.bigmagic.com/pages/blackj/column2.html"&gt;http://www.bigmagic.com/pages/blackj/column2.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started smoking pot back in November. I really liked it at first but I became a little scared and paranoid the first couple of times. I would also totally lose control under pot. I had no idea what was going on around me and I've even hallucinated a few times. Once I was convinced that I needed to boil my boyfriend's head. Of course, I wasn't concerned about killing him or chopping his head off. I just wanted to boil the damn thing! Once I called him by my ex-husband's name all night. In view of all this, I really don't know why he sticks around but I guess he really cares. Why, I don't know. Anyway, not only were the highs out of control but the coming down was hell. I would get suicidal, anxious, depressed, and feel tired constantly. But I just loved that "high" I got. When I was high, nothing else mattered. I had all these awesome realizations about life and everything just fit into place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Due to some concerned friends and family members, I decided to take another look at my life and especially habits. I decided I'm addicted to pot. I'm really not concerned with putting that on here because most people I know and especially that I work with aren't intelligent enough to fool around with blogs or even be able to determine that I am "who I am". If that makes sense. Anyway, I'm pretty addicted. I didn't realize it until last night when boyfriend suggested we have dinner without smoking weed and I started crying. I "persuaded" him into allowing me to use it just this once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's interesting is that the more I read on addiction, the more I'm motivated to give it a rest for awhile. It doesn't bother me that I love smoking weed and I smoke a lot. The problem is the coming down. I come down from that stuff for a whole week sometimes. Then I start needing it during the week to get out of that "coming down" feeling. And it's just a viscous cycle. So, starting tonight no more weed for a week. If I need to "ave' a larf" I'll have to rely on my crazy boyfriend to stuff me in a corner and fart on me or embarrass me in front of a crowd of people in the mall by acting retarded. I'm sure he'll think of something!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had amazing support from Sister and my boyfriend. They both want me to do good and not become dependent and depressed. I'm not going to say I won't miss it because I really REALLY like the stuff! But I had a life before this happened. The next time I "ave' a larf" I need to be able to do it without being stressed out or overwhelmed with everything going on around me. It needs to be a pleasant experience, not full of worries. And with the overwhelming love I feel from Sister and my boyfriend, I think I can get there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23416332-114755831330661039?l=whereelseshallwego.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereelseshallwego.blogspot.com/feeds/114755831330661039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23416332&amp;postID=114755831330661039' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23416332/posts/default/114755831330661039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23416332/posts/default/114755831330661039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereelseshallwego.blogspot.com/2006/05/lets-ave-larf.html' title='Let&apos;s &apos;Ave A Larf!'/><author><name>Mold Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02645486895986134095</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23416332.post-114489247330146435</id><published>2006-04-12T18:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-12T18:41:13.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Excuses, Excuses</title><content type='html'>Ok, I promised myself I wouldn't continue to rant and rave about this horrible cult I was raised up in, but after reading a few j-dub blogs I got so pissed off at their ignorance I absolutely had to comment on it. I keep reading things like "they have so much love" or "they give me hope" and I feel like telling these people where to stick it. It's difficult to come to terms with the fact that THIS is all their is and we won't be playing with lions and feeding them hay in some perfect paradise, but that's just the way it is. They find great pleasure in telling US "that's just the way it is". Oh, that elder kicked your daughter out and you can never speak to her again, but that's just human error...that's just the way it is. Well, Jerusalem wasn't destroyed in 607 B.C.E. and if you read any history book you will find it was destroyed around 539 B.C.E. but hey...if it's good enough for them it's good enough for me I guess! What morons!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What really pisses me off is when they make excuses for child molesters. So many people have been hurt because of the "two witness" rule. If you don't have at least two witnesses to a supposed sin, then you don't have a case and they won't take action against someone. So, if a girl goes up to the elders and says her uncle molested her, they won't do anything about it because there wasn't more than one witness. Even in cases where there exists another witness, if they decide that he's repentant (or if he gives large donations) the worst that could happen to this guy is they take away his privileges to give public talks. NO ONE goes to the police and you aren't allowed to talk about it. So, here this poor child has to go back into the same horrible situation and endure all sorts of abuse until they are old enough to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember this girl who used to go to the kingdom hall when I was growing up. We'll call her A. A. was always a hellcat of a kid. She was a little younger than me and mean as a striped snake! She had an older sister who acted very strange and didn't talk much. Well, her mother and step-father were devout j-dubs. Step-father was a little overly friendly at times, though, and made me pretty uncomfortable. Sister and I used to spend the night over there on occasion and I would always pester the hell out of Sister and A.'s older sister to hang with me because I couldn't stand to be around A. Anyway, I remember one night we were getting ready for bed and A. was in big trouble as usual and her step-father called her into the bedroom and closed the door. I was happy she was getting a spanking but I never actually "heard" anything. I just remember her sobbing when she came out. I didn't know at the time, but she was being molested. Time went on and A. became disfellowshipped. Meanwhile, her step-father, who was very spiritual, never received any "privileges" which means he couldn't give talks, say prayers after meetings, etc. Mom and I assumed he'd pissed someone off in the elder body. A few years ago I was speaking with a good friend of A.'s and she confided in me that A. and her older sister had been molested by her step-father. When A. approached the elders for help, she was told to keep quiet about it. I asked what the mother did about the situation and she had actually admitted that it happened! Her big EXCUSE was that the girls had thrown themselves at their step-father! Imagine that...a 13 and 15 year old girl throwing themselves at their grown step-father! I was outraged. I felt so sorry for A. and everything began to fall into place. I thought of what my parents would have thought about letting us spend the night there if they had known that. I thought of this little child trapped in the house with a molester and no one to come to her aid. Then I got really pissed at the bastards that had known about this and hadn't told the police, social services or anyone else. How many other kids had he molested in the kingdom hall? That's their way of "handling" this sort of thing...they sweep it under the rug so they don't have to deal with the public finding out that they are just as corrupt as every other fundy religion. For more info on this check out &lt;a href="http://www.silentlambs.org"&gt;www.silentlambs.org&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so glad I escaped those mind poisoning child molesters. I don't have Mom anymore, thanks to good old fashioned shunning, but I'll always have my sister.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23416332-114489247330146435?l=whereelseshallwego.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereelseshallwego.blogspot.com/feeds/114489247330146435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23416332&amp;postID=114489247330146435' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23416332/posts/default/114489247330146435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23416332/posts/default/114489247330146435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereelseshallwego.blogspot.com/2006/04/excuses-excuses.html' title='Excuses, Excuses'/><author><name>Mold Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02645486895986134095</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23416332.post-114463452576130218</id><published>2006-04-09T18:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-09T19:38:54.023-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Escape From A Cult</title><content type='html'>I had an anxiety attack today. It was my own fault...I got all worked up about some issues me and my sister (and many other people) have been dealing with and will probably deal with for the rest of our lives. I was raised up in a cult. As Sister will agree, it's still hard to refer to them as a "cult". She has used the expression "cultish" for a long time. We both agree it's a cult. Interestingly enough, let's define "cult", shall we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got this definition from "ex-cult.com". CULT - Any group which has a pyramid type authoritarian leadership structure with all teaching and guidance coming from the person/persons at the top. The group will claim to bethe only way to God; Nirvana; Paradise; Ultimate Reality; FullPotential, Way to Happiness etc, and will use thought reformor mind control techniques to gain control and keep their members.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The above is considered the "universal definition" of a cult. I've researched many more websites and usually anything that has the words "freedom" or "free" or "re-examine" or "recovery" is referring to the cult which I will now refer to as j-dubs. If any j-dubs are reading this you better leave at once on go study your damn watchtower before demons jump out of your computer and attack you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, about this lovely cult that totally screwed me and my sister's life over. We grew up thinking it was the only way to go. We had the "truth". The right way. The entire world of "ungodly" people would be destroyed at Armageddon (right around the corner) and these j-dubs would inherit the earth and make it a lovely paradise. If, of course, you were pure in mind and heart and had studied your watchtower faithfully every Sunday and confessed all your deepest darkest secrets to the local elders. Even THEN, we were taught, you still might not make it. I don't think Dad ever thought he would. He was so humble and hard on himself a lot of times. This cult is set-up to make you feel that way. You're never doing enough. You're not even supposed to THINK about doing something wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, true to the definition, this cult is set-up with leaders in each congregation who answer to a group of people in New York City who have convinced everyone they get all their info from a "higher power" and any deviation from what they teach is linked to be disagreeing with God. Sound like a cult to you? Even more interesting is how they claim to be the only way to have any hope what so ever. Armageddon is coming and you'll be destroyed...or you will die of natural causes before that. And the ONLY way you will gain salvation is by being a j-dub. It's not enough to just believe in God and the bible on your own...heaven forid!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only that, but they threaten you with shunning if you decide to leave. Sister got disfellowshipped when she was 18 for writing letters to her boyfriend that the idiot "turned over" to the elders after she decided not to go to the movies with him. Now, I have to think of some of the stuff I was writing and thinking at 17 or 18. Most people would shit their pants if they knew what their kids were thinking or fantasizing about...especially with a young boyfriend. Hopefully, NORMAL thinking people would chalk it up to adolescence or coming of age...even curiosity. Not the brainwashed, power crazy, moreon who talked to her and put her on trial. She had to sit in front of three men who attempted to convince her that she was wicked and evil and wrote those "disgusting" things because she had a wicked heart. Hell, one of them was in his 70's and slept half the time! Every now and then he'd wake up and say, "Do you know what it says in Matthew blah blah blah?" and it would have absolutely nothing to do with Sister or conversation topic or anything else. And this person was on her judicial committee! Anyway, they decided she should be disfellowshipped. For those of you who don't know what that means, basically you're cut off from everything. People who saw you grow up can't speak to you anymore. Your own family is supposed to have absolute minimal contact with you. I actually shunned Sister for awhile before I came around in my thinking and that's something I'll probably regret my entire life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, where does all this leave me? Well, I haven't been officially disfellowshipped yet, thanks to leaving the shithole town I was in and dropping off the "radar" for awhile. I had a few spies casing out my apartment when I first moved away, but I think they caught onto the fact that I was watching or maybe just the fact that their actions were downright illegal and left me the hell alone.....for now. That's the thing about this cult...you can't leave. Either they kick you out or you have to kick yourself out. Oh they just couldn't stand the fact that someone may have left without them getting their canniving little hands on them and giving them hell in the library at the back of the hall! They want you to be shunned...that's the kicker. They want you to feel like you have nowhere to go and that you'll come back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sister and I are there for each other. We are all the family we have now. Mom has little to nothing to do with Sister. I often think if Sister didn't have a son, that Mom probably wouldn't talk to her at all. And Mom hasn't called me since I visited her a few weeks ago. I told her I was never coming back to the j-dubs. I just don't believe it anymore. But that's not good enough for her. I remember crying and saying "Why can't you just accept me for who I am?" She got this half-hearted look on her face as if she was getting ready to say "Of course I do" but couldn't because she knows damn well that she doesn't. So she said nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope I can reach out to someone else who has had to go through the same thing. Sister is here for me, but I would love to connect with and help someone else.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23416332-114463452576130218?l=whereelseshallwego.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereelseshallwego.blogspot.com/feeds/114463452576130218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23416332&amp;postID=114463452576130218' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23416332/posts/default/114463452576130218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23416332/posts/default/114463452576130218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereelseshallwego.blogspot.com/2006/04/my-escape-from-cult.html' title='My Escape From A Cult'/><author><name>Mold Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02645486895986134095</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23416332.post-114210825456385846</id><published>2006-03-11T12:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-11T12:17:34.570-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dome</title><content type='html'>Reality breathes&lt;br /&gt;Daddy bleeds&lt;br /&gt;Two little girls left,&lt;br /&gt;to mourn his decease.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the truth?&lt;br /&gt;I thought I knew in my youth.&lt;br /&gt;I lived in a dome of lies,&lt;br /&gt;muting all of my cries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy clings to his hand,&lt;br /&gt;with the other clasped around funeral flowers.&lt;br /&gt;Her mind beneath the ground,&lt;br /&gt;to hear his voice again, what a sweet sound!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She marches round his grave.&lt;br /&gt;The souls of so many she wants to save.&lt;br /&gt;Bring them all into the dome of gray.&lt;br /&gt;Turn your back on me as you bow to pray.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will you throw the first stone?&lt;br /&gt;And strip my emotions to the bone?&lt;br /&gt;I'll see him again,&lt;br /&gt;if the man in the suit and tie forgives my sin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With his hand on the trigger, what did he think?&lt;br /&gt;His life hanging in the brink...&lt;br /&gt;Still looking for the missing link?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where is this "truth" you promised me, Daddy?&lt;br /&gt;Is it that bullet in your shotgun?&lt;br /&gt;Your utopia is shattering,&lt;br /&gt;the "paradise" doesn't look so flattering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You fell asleep in this cult,&lt;br /&gt;a healthy dose of narcotics so you wouldn't wake up.&lt;br /&gt;Your voice rings out as you sing their song,&lt;br /&gt;"no sorrowing, nor any dying" it won't be long!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two little doves in a sky of blue,&lt;br /&gt;sailing over the gray dome they once knew.&lt;br /&gt;Mommy glances up briefly and watches them fly,&lt;br /&gt;wiping a tear from her eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did she do wrong?&lt;br /&gt;Why do they fly away?&lt;br /&gt;Come back to your CAGE little dove,&lt;br /&gt;come back to your Mommy's love!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They fly away and sing,&lt;br /&gt;drowning out those terrible moans and sighs below.&lt;br /&gt;And as they fly through this world alone,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy just sits there in her dome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23416332-114210825456385846?l=whereelseshallwego.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereelseshallwego.blogspot.com/feeds/114210825456385846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23416332&amp;postID=114210825456385846' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23416332/posts/default/114210825456385846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23416332/posts/default/114210825456385846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereelseshallwego.blogspot.com/2006/03/dome.html' title='The Dome'/><author><name>Mold Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02645486895986134095</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23416332.post-114149359865344106</id><published>2006-03-04T09:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-04T09:33:18.663-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Sister is AWESOME</title><content type='html'>Okay, like I mentioned earlier, my sister inspired me to start this whole blog thing.  This is why I love my sister more than anything on the face of the earth.  She called me the other night hoping to have some meaningful conversation and I was so high that I couldn't even talk to her and she just politely excused me and will probably think nothing of it and talk to me again today when I call her!  She has ALWAYS been there for me when I need someone to talk to.  I ask her EVERYTHING!  If I don't know the answer to something, I call her.  If I'm ever on any of those dumbass shows like "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire" she will be my "call a freind" option and I know that tough chic would win my ass a million dollars!  She has been such an inspiration for me.  We have went through some tough times in our life and she brought our whole family through it and denied her feelings the whole time.  I'm on anti-depressants and psychologists and she deals with her stuff from inside...from the strong, smart person that she is.  She put herself through college as a single mom and came out with two degrees.  She went to college to learn, not to get degrees. (Ha how many people can say that??)  She has been ousted from the same cult I'm dealing with.  I even followed the rules and ignored her for awhile and I'm SO SORRY for that sis!  Our own mother doesn't even welcome our visits like she used to.  She has managed to raise a beautiful, smart child, much like herself.  Oh yes and she's beautiful!  Inside and out.  We grew up together out in the country, running through the woods, playing with the dogs, playing music with our folks, and spending a lot of time together.  Now she lives far far away and I wish I could have all those times back.  Sis, if I could pick one moment and bring it all back, I would take a time warp back to about 1988 when I was 8 and you were 10 and we'd throw those damn barbie dolls off our playhouse deck into the creek and pretend like they were swimming again!  Remember the smell of dill pickles when mom used to can?  Or sitting round the old campfire with daddy playing his guitar and trying to keep the dogs from getting our weenies from the sticks?  I'm crying now Joy!  I love you so much!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23416332-114149359865344106?l=whereelseshallwego.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereelseshallwego.blogspot.com/feeds/114149359865344106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23416332&amp;postID=114149359865344106' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23416332/posts/default/114149359865344106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23416332/posts/default/114149359865344106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereelseshallwego.blogspot.com/2006/03/my-sister-is-awesome.html' title='My Sister is AWESOME'/><author><name>Mold Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02645486895986134095</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23416332.post-114149247535388866</id><published>2006-03-04T08:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-04T09:14:35.363-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Where Else Shall We Go?</title><content type='html'>A question posed to Jesus by his disciples in ancient Bible MYTHOLOGY (ha ha).  Apparently he was asking if they would be his true disciples and follow his teachings, way of life, etc. and this was their reply. I think this illustrates a major need of humans that is played on by nearly every religion.  People have to have somewhere to GO.  Somewhere to go every Sunday, somewhere to go when they have no direction, something to believe in...hope for.  And so many religions convince them that this is the ONLY way and there's no where else to go to get that personal fulfullment.  Like there's something WRONG with you if you can find fulfillment within yourself and your surroundings.  And it doesn't just apply to religion.  People go to other people to tell them what to do.  They can't make their damn mind up on their own and rely on others to tell them what job to take, where to go to college, who to marry, WHAT TO BELIEVE, what to think.  I did that for so many years.  I was involved in a cult.  And it took me 26 years to realize that I had been brainwashed into thinking that this was the only way to live or believe in order to get some type of happiness and most of all, salvation.  And now I'm looking at my life in a whole new light.  I can be something without it...I can be happy and successful without being in it.  And I'm still technically "in" according to their standards...haven't been kicked out yet but they're sure as hell working on it!  So I decided to use this phrase as my blogspot for people to think about what they believe in and how much thinking they do on their own.  Where else shall we go?  Let's go within ourselves and think about what we believe is important and what we want to do with our life.  And realize that we don't have to "go" anywhere or "follow" anything that doesn't inspire us, reward us, and allow us to be who we really are.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23416332-114149247535388866?l=whereelseshallwego.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereelseshallwego.blogspot.com/feeds/114149247535388866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23416332&amp;postID=114149247535388866' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23416332/posts/default/114149247535388866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23416332/posts/default/114149247535388866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereelseshallwego.blogspot.com/2006/03/where-else-shall-we-go.html' title='Where Else Shall We Go?'/><author><name>Mold Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02645486895986134095</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23416332.post-114148995450643025</id><published>2006-03-04T08:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-04T09:41:52.836-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What the hell happened?  I'm not in Kansas anymore!</title><content type='html'>Okay, due to some major inspiration from my sister - &lt;a href="http://dantesvirgil.blogspot.com"&gt;http://dantesvirgil.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt; - I have decided to create my own blogspot. I am doing this because her posts have really touched me and it seems like such a release for her to get on here and vent. Sort of like a diary. I also plan on posting replies to all her stuff. I was hesitant about doing this because I'm not nearly as educated or smart as she is and I can't use all the big words and expressions that she does.  I also must say that I am much bolder than she is with my writing and I hope I don't reveal too much about our life and family so as to make her uncomfortable.  Don't believe me, ask her!  She knows I just "Tell it like it is!"  She tells it like it is too but she thinks before she opens her mouth, unlike me!  Lord you should see us sitting round the house talking to Mom.  It's usually me mouthing off to Mom and Sis trying to remedy the situation and calm everyone down.  Even Mom's damn poodle recognizes her as the dominant female and stares up at her sheepishly.  I know my postings could never be as insightful as hers.  That's the main reason I was hesitant about starting this. But then the other day she said "You know you could just get on there and say you love me or something." Nuff said. This is for you Sis...and me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23416332-114148995450643025?l=whereelseshallwego.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whereelseshallwego.blogspot.com/feeds/114148995450643025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23416332&amp;postID=114148995450643025' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23416332/posts/default/114148995450643025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23416332/posts/default/114148995450643025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whereelseshallwego.blogspot.com/2006/03/what-hell-happened-im-not-in-kansas.html' title='What the hell happened?  I&apos;m not in Kansas anymore!'/><author><name>Mold Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02645486895986134095</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
