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thoughtlessghost · 4 years

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Salem ou alekoum fellow disbelievers,

I decided to write this story down because one of my friends is currently questioning Islam. She said it might be a good idea for me to share my journey to help her and others find inner peace once you have walk out of something you grew up thinking was correct. I think I will make this a 2-3 parts series depending on interest and how she deals with just part 1. There's a lot to go through, and I will try to be brief, but I do not mind elaborating on any section in the comments or private. I am very open and confident about who and what I am. Finally, I want to have at least one part dedicated to my current worldview with the hopes of helping you guys create your moral landscape.

Finally, I would like to complete this preface by saying that I know that we all have personal reasons for leaving a Religion. Some of you have left the faith because you felt as though it was too controlling; others may have felt that God was simply too cruel. I will say that in the end, those were not the deciding factors for me. In my view, only Truth matters. Therefore, for me to stop believing in a concept, it merely has to be proven untrue, whether scientifically or logically. So my journey of leaving Islam did not originate because I had problems with its takes on the world. They occurred in large part because I feel as though Islam is inconsistent with our understanding of the natural world. Given the purpose of writing this is to help people, and that most people don't make decisions based on logic, I will try and emphasize how events and not thoughts affected my worldview to help illustrate how and when the transition occurred.

1. Humble beginnings: I know everybody has a different upbringing, so I would like to give you guys some context of how familiar I was with Islam growing up as a child (4-12). For starters, I am the eldest son of first-generation Algerian immigrants to Canada. This is just to tell you I'm brown, and I went to a school surrounded by non-muslims. In school, I was a troublemaker. I was basically this brainy kid who cared so little of rules and norms that I was almost transferred to this school for a learning disability. In response, my dad would beat the shit out of me every day for not being an obedient student despite my grades being decent (during that period B to B+). Despite his sincerest efforts, I never learned or changed. I'm only saying this because it made Arabic school impossible for my parents to manage since I simply refused to do my regular homework from school. My thinking was something like this: "What's the point of going to ANOTHER school on the weekend and spend all of my time off doing pointless alphabetical exercises in a language no one other than my parents spoke?" This, in turn, limited my exposure to Islam since I didn't interact with other Muslim kids. Finally, my parents bestowed upon me few Islamic teachings or practices. For instance, I fasted, I didn't eat pepperoni pizza, I was a relatively good kid, and I knew of prayer. Still, it wasn't something we did in our household. So I basically ended up with the same amount of knowledge of Islam and Arabic as Mohammed did when he was visited by Gabriel.

2. The quest begins: By the time I reached 14, I began to change mentally (One would only hope). I had stopped being this rebellious kid and became a book worm. I read encyclopedias, watched documentaries, binged read Wikipedia and genuinely wanted to learn everything the world had to offer. Therefore, religion seemed like the next logical step. Another reason that pushed me to that position is my first adolescent trip to Algeria. It was the first time I had truly been exposed to Islam, and I felt like I got a good whiff of what it meant to be a Muslim. And so, I decided I had now come of age and was of sufficient maturity to read the Quran and become a proper Muslim. I purchased a translated version of the Holy Book and waited until nightfall to open it. I vividly remember the mindset I put myself in before opening the book. I told myself the following things:

1. Bismillah. (YAH BOY) 2. I am about to read a book written by a being that is not human. (how fucking cool is that?!) 3. It is a book of ultimate and limitless knowledge and is the literal word of God. 4. It will guide me now and forever, for it is a timeless work meant to guide all of humanity.

By the time I made it halfway through Al-Baqarah, the second chapter of the book, I was mortified. For whatever reason, God presented himself as a terrifying merciless being. So many verses spoke about how powerful God was, and for some reason, it felt weird to me. It's almost like Bill Gates flaunting billions at a homeless person or a fisherman trying to shame a fish on how it cant breathe once it's out of water. I also felt as though too many verses spoke about eternal damnation instead of collective upbringing. In essence, it wasn't the book I expected. I was hoping for the key to save my soul and help humanity. All that ran through my head was that I was unworthy and had to dedicate myself or else face the consequences. But I persevered. Over the next few days, I kept reading while trying to keep an open mind, but I was definitely feeling perplexed. What I could not wrap my head around was the following: If God can indeed do anything, why can't he have a son? Like all this talk about how Powerful he is, but he can't have a son?

It was around this time I started to explore other religions. However, there were so many religions that existed that it would take an eternity to study and contemplate every single one. So I elaborated the following shortcuts:

1. I skipped Judaism because a "true" faith can't have fewer subscribers than the city of New York. That also threw a bunch of other religions out the window. In my view, a Divine being should do a good job of spreading his work even if he has to do it remotely. 2. I skipped polytheistic religions like Hinduism because multiple Gods seemed odd to me. 3. Buddhism didn't have a deity, can we, therefore, call it a religion?

By that flawless logic (lol), I thought that Christianity was likely to be the One True Faith. But there were inconsistencies. For starters, the faith had multiple subdivisions and multiple versions given the Bible was written after the life of Jesus. Suffice to say, I agreed with most Muslim criticisms towards Christianity's essence manipulated by men. If Christianity is the real deal, then God would have cared a little more. As a side note to my thinking, the book of Narnia really helped me appreciate Christianity. It portrayed a more merciful caring version of God that wanted what was best for his disciples and all that existed. Yet the feeling of a merciful and just God was simply not sufficient to make me convert.

And so I started to think about atheism. However, I could still feel the presence of God. In the end, I just felt discouraged. I wrapped my head around the whole thing when I realized there was a possibility I was simply too immature to understand Islam or the Quran. So, in the end, I decided to postpone my immersion in the faith until later.

3. I committed: By the time I reached 16, I had started rereading the Quran, which actually flowed better this time around. I was relieved to know that my 14-year-old self was simply too childish. Eventually, I stumbled upon a verse akin to the following: Oh, Believers look into the world, and you shall see evidence of Islam. It felt as though God challenged me to learn science and search for proof of his existence in the natural world. And so, I did.

So one thing that occurred to me growing up is that I wanted to learn everything. By the time I reached 12, I thought to myself that if I knew every word in the dictionary, I would end up knowing everything. But the dictionary was dull. So, I decided that if I know how all things came about by reading history, then I would end up knowing everything. So when I read that verse that said learn science, I was ecstatic. I just doubled down on my readings and started to focus more on scientific theories. I read about physics and the origin of the universe. I read on chemistry and the nature of matter and atomic bonds. By the time I reached biology, Darwinism quickly became very problematic. I thought really long and hard about how to counter it. I started to read into Intelligent Design and watched Islamic Scholars debate atheists. Still, it didn't make sense to me since the evidence for evolution was just overwhelming.

I voiced some of my concerns to a Muslim friend of mine in High School, and we had this long-winded conversation in which he convinced me he was right. I wish I remembered exactly what he said, but I remember him instilling upon me enough doubt to make me not drop the faith. Following that conversation, I decided it was time to commit to Islam finally. Here are a few things I started to do: 1. I started praying 5-7 times per day. 2. I read the Quran. 3. I would watch videos daily on what it meant to be a Muslim and how I can improve on my practice. 4. I would fast every once a while. 5. I went to the mosque whenever I could since it was far from where I lived. 6. I even helped start our prayer group in High School. In that group, we would all sit and eat together. We shared food, laughter and drinks. We were a brotherhood through and through, and for a time, it was good.

Reflecting on this period, I was one standard deviation from being in a CIA hit list. I literally messaged Benjamin Netanyahu on YT, encouraging him to stop his occupation of Palestine and to seak a peaceful approach when engaging with my brothers and sisters. Despite these friendly messages, some darker thoughts flowed through me. So I will say that there definitely is some credence to the idea that the more radical a Muslim is, the more you should worry about him, especially if he is a dude.

So when I say I genuinely believed 100% of what the Quran said, I really did. Some people will say: "Well, yea, I also used to be that way too." Well, I think I took it to another degree. For instance, when I used to walk, I would think to myself there are two people next to me—these immortal, holy beings made of light were sent by God to watch over my every move. I must, therefore, walk and behave in the utmost perfect ways to not only impress them but also uphold my honour. I was 16.

4.The Masturbation/sleep problem:

Now I'm going to say that the period mentioned above lasted about 6 months. During this period, despite my holier than thou behaviour, I was still a man, and I had urges dawg. Every once in awhile, i.e, once a week, I would lament hypothetically at my hypocrisy. Repression creates obsession; truer words have never been spoken. The more I fought my urges not to masturbate, THE MORE I HAD TO. I created this whole inner mathematical system based on the number 19 since its a particular Islamic number. Basically, I would only masturbate around times when I could calculate 19. To me, it meant God approved of my addiction. I ended up using the time since my alarm clock was next to me. Its such warped logic don't look too much into it for when there is a will there is a way and I can get creative. Here are a few noteworthy examples:

1.Its 1:09 AM. Shit that's 19 to me since all you have to do is ignore the 0, and you have 19. 2. Its 1:45 AM. You guessed it 19. 3.7:00 PM. 19. 4. 12:07 PM. Unzip. 5. 12:17. PM shit, that's 19 too. 12+(1 times 7). Guess its Time for round 2. 6. 12:35 PM. FUCK I have to again you see 1+2+35=38, which is 19 times 2. EYYYY

[Insert COOMER MEME.]

To get over this dissonance, the Devil was responsible for these intrusive thoughts. I was a holy man of God, after all. But the voice that told me to unzip my pants and wax my carrot was the EXACT same voice that told me to go bed when I didn't want too. In the end, I knew deep down temptation doesn't come from the Devil. It comes from me. I decide what I do with my life, not some off-world entity. Keep in mind for later its just this thing I noticed. The Mosque event: So the day started like any other Friday prayer. The Imam began to speak about how God has no equal. He went on about how great and awesome of a sky Chad he was. He said that although he had no equal, there was another being that was insanely powerful as well. My eyes lit up, for I loved Islamic lore. He said that among non-God entities, the strongest was Gabriel. Eventually, he went on to say how to associate any other thing to God's power was literally the worst crime a human could commit. Shirk was worse than murder, he said. It literally guarantees you a trip to Hell.

And so given that I was human when I am told not to think about something, I immediately start to think about it. So I began to think well what if Gabriel stood up to God. I do not know what came over me but I got a literal panic attack from this. [Insert meme it was at this moment he knew he fucked up]

As the Imam had so eloquently put it to associate anything to God, you just committed the worst sin ever. I kept trying to tell myself not to think about it. Still, it just kept repeating it over and over again despite my sincerest efforts. I legit left the mosque and went back home and prayed all night, hoping God would forgive me.

The next morning was wild. I was basically schizophrenic since I kept thinking God was going to smite me for I have sinned. Crossing the street was so hard since I felt God would turn a car invisible and run me over or would simply kill me there where I stood. I lived in utter fear since I felt as though I had a bounty on my head. The inner world that I worked so hard to create had fallen apart from stupid, intrusive, thoughts. How the mighty have fallen.

5.Rethinking the Conspiracies:

A few days later, I started to rethink everything inside my head once I started to calm down. I felt as though my fears were way too irrational for the type of person I usually am and that I could not regain my sanity by thinking I was unworthy. I just simply had to work my way back up to the top fam.

During this time, I also began to rethink my understanding of the political world. For starters, as far back as I can remember, I have always been anti-authority. I believed in political realism, and so large corporations or governments always used their powers to oppress others. And so, what began as a soft-hearted liberal who thought 911 was an inside job turned into a cult of devil worshippers who rule the world and are trying to get us into the End Times.

This political worldview of a small elite who use the Devil to gain off-world power was further validated my understanding of Islam. In my view, the END WAS NEAR. Eventually, people took my ideas and thoughts in High School, and it became its own thing. Just to give you context on the time here, but it was when Lady Gaga dropped Bad Romance, and Kanye West and Jay-Z dropped Watch The Throne. We would analyze the videos and look for satanic imagery, but I always felt like that was a tad bit too far. Why are they being so apparent about something that's supposed to be secret? Predictive-Programming can only go so far after all. I began to pushback on this worldview, and I went so far back that Islam was caught in the cross-fire.

This turned into a three-month-long journey. I started by revisiting natural selection, and I realized that I duped myself. I just did not understand natural selection well enough to defend my position 6 months ago. I read The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins. I binged watched George Carlin, and he really helped me overcome any anxiety I had towards leaving my faith because, like him, I really did want to believe in a deity, but I started to realize all of the inconsistencies. [I will elaborate more on this in a later part]

5. The social consequences: By the time I left my faith, I was open about it. I have always been vocal about what I believe in, and I simply told all of my prayer brothers why I stopped going to prayer. Needless to say, they weren't pleased about it. Unlike Elementary School and as a result of our immigration policies, High School had more Muslims in it, and many hated or criticized me for questioning the faith. As time went on, they became more toxic and vicious in their opposition, and so I called them out on their shit. I told them that I am on a journey like each and every one of them, and if they don't want to talk to me anymore, I would not care, and if they wanted to fight me, then bring it on. It was the last time any of them said anything to my face that was negative. Some of them never spoke to me again, some spoke to me less. I respected their choice and moved on; whether they respected mine mattered not. All that I cared about was that I felt that I was moving forward in my life. Eventually, the Muslim prayer group fell apart, and everything went back to normal in my High School.

Now, all of what I wrote happened about 10 years ago, and despite standing up to my fellow peers, I still haven't mustered up the courage to tell my parents. Honestly, I'm glad I still haven't. To this day, I have a good relationship with them, and they are far more religious now than they were. It seems like an egregiously unnecessary thing to do that will not only sour my relationship with them but also with their future grandkids. That just seems too selfish for my liking despite my usual vocal tendencies.

End of part 1.

#islam #atheism #lifestory #blog #religion #spirituality #reddit #journey

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raendrops · 5 years

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when was the last time you slept? - Jacob Seed x Deputy

a/n: hi! ok so this is my first fic ever. it’s not been beta read because i’m too anxious to have anyone read it lmfao. ANYWAYS i have reread this about two thousand times so if i don’t post it here now, i never will. that said, i’ve cross-posted on AO3-- my user there is the same as here. let me know what you think! <3

link to AO3

Somehow, some way, Rook found herself in the goddamned cage again. If she didn’t know any better, Rook would say someone inside her head was throwing pebbles against the walls of her skull. Her ears rang and her back ached. Rook was tired of being treated like a zoo animal.

The wails and caterwauling of the captive, innocent citizens of the Whitetail Mountains filled the air. As she looked around her, Rook made eye contact with as many of the prisoners as she could. The boy next to her (who couldn’t have been older than Wheaty) shivered in the cold Montana air.

How long has this quasi-Holy War been going on for? It was difficult -- no, impossible-- to track time in this war-torn Hope County. The frigid breeze in the air suggested late fall, but then again, Rook was malnourished, exhausted, and exposed. She always felt cold nowadays.

Rook was yanked out of her reverie to the uncomfortably familiar sound of military grade combat boots and the clink clink clink of dog tags.

“Look who’s up. How was your cat nap, kitten?” Jacob Seed’s voice always gave her chills. Excluding the night of Joseph Seed’s arrest, Rook had only met Jacob twice before. But, she had spent enough time in the mountains and liberating his outposts. She was very familiar with the man’s smooth timbre.

The sky was the kind of orange that only happens on the cusp of daybreak or the cusp of nightfall. Rook wasn’t sure exactly which it was. She raked her eyes up the Herald’s form and landed on his cool grey eyes. Looking Jacob Seed in the eyes was about as intimidating as making direct eye contact with a hungry wolf. A staring contest with a wolf is basically guaranteed disembowelment. Rook wasn’t quite sure what this prolonged stare with the eldest Seed would result in. Hell, she very well could be disemboweled.

As Rook was about to counter his snide comment, she interrupted herself with a jaw-cracking yawn.

“Still a bit drowsy, huh pup? Gonna be honest, you look like shit. Eyes are dull, skin’s looking a little gray... Damn, when was the last time you slept?” He regarded her with a scornful smirk. His barrage of insults wasn’t lost on Rook. She knew she looked like shit-- she felt even worse. In truth, Rook wasn’t exactly sure when the last time she really slept was.

“Good question Seed. Guess it depends... what day is it?” The corners of Jacob’s mouth twitched upwards, but his face was quickly schooled back into the severe gaze that Rook had become accustomed to.

“Pathetic.” He murmured and turned his face away from her shivering form. Rook had relatively thick skin. She’d always been able to tolerate ridicule, but Rook had reached the end of her rope.

“Me? Pathetic? The only reason I can’t get any fucking sleep is because I’m constantly forced to check over my shoulder for you and your siblings and your fucking death arrows and murder dogs! I haven’t slept in a bed that wasn’t previously occupied by a corpse in months! I’m tired. I’m cold. I’m ready to leave these fucking mountains-- hell, this fucking county! But I can’t! I took an oath-- made a promise that I would protect the people of this county. The longer I’m in this cage, the longer I break my promise. I’m tired of breaking promises.” She felt her eyes watering, but Rook blamed the slipping tears on the blustery winds. The soldier was not so easily fooled.

“Don’t cry, pup. Crying is for the weak.”

“Thought I was weak.” Rook sniffled.

“Haven’t been for a while,” he replied gruffly “do ya recognize any of your neighbors?”

Rook threw her head around, searching for familiar faces in the cages around her. No, they were all new. Fresh meat.

“No, I made you strong, and I’ll make you stronger.” He looked smug. What Rook would do to be able to get out of this cage and bitch slap him. Despite her growing urge for violence, she had to laugh.

“I’d be stronger if I could get some peace and quiet. Maybe a pillow. Or something to eat that wasn’t raw meat.”

“Got any other requests?” Jacob’s tone was joking, but the look in his eyes was not.

Rook crawled to the front of the cage and wrapped her hands around the bars. The sudden movement sent her world spinning and she struggled to maintain her balance. She sat on her haunches and bared her teeth at her captor in a devilish grin.

“Would you consider letting me out of my cage?” She fluttered her eyelashes and pushed her shoulders back. Rook never considered herself particularly attractive, but she tried her damnedest to look the part of the alluring hostage.

Jacob crouched and gripped the bars of the cage just above Rook’s hands. He leaned forward until the only thing separating his face from Rook’s was the iron rods and a few spare centimeters. Internally, Rook balked at the nearness of his wolf eyes to hers. She balked at the nearness of his nose to hers, of his lips to hers. Despite his intimidation tactic, Rook did not shrink from him-- and for that she was proud. The staring contest continued, and Rook’s thought began to wander. It had been a long time since she was this close to anyone. The sharp contrast of the cold metal bars and the radiating warmth of Jacob's hands above hers gave Rook goosebumps. The heat of his breath cascaded across her face. He had had coffee recently, Rook noted. His proximity allowed the deputy the chance to actually smell the man in front of her. He smelled like metal and moss. Not entirely unpleasant. She was lost in his eyes; apparently, piercing blue eyes was a Seed trait. Rook determined that Jacob’s were the most domineering. Upon further inspection of his eyes, Rook discovered a certain sadness to them. When was the last time he was this close to someone?

Rook was startled out of her trance when hot ball of spit landed on her across cheek. She recoiled in mortification. Jacob stood abruptly and smirked.

“Remember your place, pup.”

Somehow, some goddamned way, Rook found herself with a bliss arrow lodged in her upper thigh. Again. Her vision blurred and the last thing she heard before she collapsed was Sharky exclaiming “Holy shitsticks, Dep!”.

Rook woke up. Head throbbing, ears ringing. It had only been a short while since she last found herself at the hands of Jacob Seed. Only a few days at most. But then again, time moves strangely in Hope County.

She shouldn’t have stayed in the mountains, but something inside her just wouldn’t let her leave.

Seconds after opening her eyes, bright white lights forced Rook to squeeze her eyes shut again. After recovering from her temporary blindness, she slowly wrenched her sore eyes open.

She realized two things:

1. She wasn’t in the cage.

She sat up-- her back didn’t ache.

2. She was in a bed.

Upon her second inspection, it was less a bed, more of a cot.

The room she found herself in was Spartan-- sterile and blindingly bright. But it was still a room. No exposed sky, no frigid Montana winds, no corpse neighbors.

She finally gathered the nerve to stand. On a nearby desk sat a tray with a protein bar, an apple, a bottle of water, and a slip of paper. Weak arms struggled to unscrew the cap of the water bottle. Once she had opened the bottle, Rook chugged half the water. A quiet voice in her head reminded Rook that she didn't know if this was her only source of water. Still feeling parched, she screwed the bottle shut.

Too nauseated from the Bliss to eat, she picked up the note.

Written in small, concise letters, the note read: “Remember your place.”

#jacob seed x deputy #jacob seed x reader #jacob seed x rook #far cry 5 fic #my writing #jacob seed #jacob seed imagine #far cry 5 imagine

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