god almighty!

In times of hardship, only will one seek for divine intervention- that is one of the few meaningful things I’ve learned so far now that I’m fucking twenty. I had this conversation about ‘God’ once last year with a very good friend of mine and we finally came up with a conclusion that the only reason why people put up and succumb to the rules and guidelines of a religion is - at the end of the day, we will have something to fall back on to; when all hope is lost. “GOD IS GREAT” – and in whatever form or shape or name that people may come up with to depict their own version of the only truth, “he/she/it” is a figment of our desperate souls searching for something greater and beyond our mortal comprehension. I am and will always be a man of no religion, No offence to everyone out there as  I respect your beliefs and practices in the utmost manner possible, no matter if u chose it or was forced into it since u were born. No matter how much I try, I cant have a rule book, a sworn affidavit of medieval souls to tell me how to differentiate between right and wrong. Yes, I know how to do the right deeds- but I don’t need heaven as a reward. Yes, I do feel guilty when I commit something bad- but I don’t see the need to brand it as a “sin” coming along with the package of endless torment and torture in hell. I do not need and do not want to be told what to eat, where to go, what to wear and when to celebrate because I can perfectly decide for myself on all that. But if there is one thing about religion that my god-damned self cant emulate is the ray of hope that EVERY religion provides, like I said, when all hope is lost. I remember one incident when I was 12 years old. T’was the night before my UPSR results were to be announced and for the first time in my life, I prayed. I was so scared, I wanted to do well so badly  that I went about all self-destructive on my emotions thinking of how badly I will screw up, and I prayed. I prayed to not one, but every single God I knew off. I cupped my hands and prayed to Allah. I put my fists together and prayed to Jesus. I prayed to Buddha. I prayed to Mother Mary, Ramayana and I even prayed to Santa Clause until there is no more holy figure my naïve, narcissistic mind can think of and reach out to. That night, I prayed (or some kid-like ritual I accept as praying), and I felt good. I felt good because I know someone up there is watching me and he/she/it will definitely answer my prayers because I knew/heard that “GOD IS GREAT”. Plus, I’ve been a good boy so give me my freaking 5 A’s. And when I finally got my grades, I forgot all about god and carried on with my life, liberated from any religious institution of any kind. I hadn’t give a thought about what I did ever since, not till very recently when an “out-of-my-control” thing happened that I somehow felt the need to repeat my childish rituals. Well that explains the introduction. I’ve always felt than I am bigger than God, that I am my own God. But not anymore. I’ve finally come to accept that there is a God out there, no preference in particular, and this time it’s definitely for real. But I will not pray nor will I do anything what a religion tells me to. As unholy as it may seem to you, I believe that there is a god out there to decide what time may bring but I will not succumb to ways preached by mortals who claim to be messengers or study the how-to-be-a-good-follower instructions through holy books printed by a factory sized Bubble-Jet. God is great, he is there, but sorry folks, the way I see it, that is just about it.