The Last Supper
You can take the girl out of the church but.... you know the rest. Growing up in a world where religion was a part of life for everyone I knew, it's hard to wash away the years of a cult. In the year 2026, people still cling to the belief there's something better than this and maybe there is. I don't know how that could ever play out but I will shut my mouth about it. I don't proclaim my denial of God too often. My entire family except for one still believe. I would not be able to say out loud in a gathering, "Hey, I don't believe in Jesus!" because I'd be considered the weirdo, a devil worshipper, an untouchable. I know what day it is. It's ingrained in my head until the day I die. The Last Supper, then Good Friday, the wailing and then the Resurrection. For a child, growing up with these horrific stories of a man being whipped as his flesh is stripped, then forced to walk to his death to hang on a cross is beyond abuse in my opinion. It certainly did teach me to be wary of humans. It definitely taught me that people are hypocrites. As nuns slapped children's hands with rulers while orgasming over the day they finally meet their maker, it just instilled the exact opposite of what they were trying to make- another mindless devotee. If believing in a god or going to church gives you comfort, so be it. No harm, no foul. It's when you don't allow me to be able to come out and not be judged and treated like a freak that truly gets me. We only have to look at our recent regime to see what religion has done. It makes me sick to my stomach when shites like Pete Hegseth actually pray for the strength to murder thousands of humans in the name of God. Then people say, "Oh, that's the nutty believers. We aren't them."
Remember, your God watched as his son was being tortured, vinegar poured into his wounds, nails hammered into his hands and feet, to suffer for human frailties. Didn't seem to work. By the way, where did Jesus go after he popped out of his tomb? I don't recall the sequel to that.
As millions get ready for this four day festival of horrors, honored with chocolate bunnies and dyed eggs, it'll be just another weekend for me, although, as you can see, that shit is like a blood stain that you can never get out.
*The Cat Supper. Acrylic work in progress

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