Slim Shady vs. Jesus

I’m eleven years old. I’m on a cruise ship docked at some port in Mexico. I’m with my grandparents and cousins, Sean, and Cara. I don’t know why this chain of memories is significant, but for some reason their retained. Sean had the new Eminem album, either that, or he had a CD with Eminem songs on it. Either way, the song “The Way I am” served a very significant purpose. This song was memorized, analyzed and idolized by me, I knew all the words. At this point I should mention that at this time, I was extremely religious. Any one who knows me, knows the extent to which I intend this statement to serve. I played worship in my middle school youth group, I didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘masturbate’ and id have panic attacks when I thought about the rapture. My bible was riddled with highlighter, my mind centered on evangelism, my heart was constantly offered up in nightly prayers. When I heard Eminem, it was completely foreign, completely vulgar, yet encompassing fascinating. I remember that by the end of the trip, Sean and I were convinced that this CD needed to be destroyed. I still pity the man who had to clean our cabin, because the debris from this sacrifice went allover, as anyone who’s ever snapped a CD in half knows.
My point isn’t to declare my love for wigger rap, or my weakness for a good monotheistic belief system, rather, its to prove to myself and others that, at some obscure point in my life, I was completely devoted to something, even to the extent that i would exterminate anything contrary to it. As I get older, wiser and higher, I realize how rare this is. To convince the human mind of something beyond a shadow of a doubt is a rare thing. Its an attribute possessed by such historical figures as Martin Luther King Jr., Søren Kierkegaard, and even Adolf Hitler. Unfortunately, I’ve made an observation that serves to discredit this habit, and that is simply the fact that nothing can be proved beyond a shadow of a doubt to be true. Prove god exists. Prove murder is wrong. Prove I’m not in the Matrix. BITCH, YOU CAN’T. In order to declare something to be definitive is to, in essence, declare something else to be untruthful.
This can be a frustrating thought to anyone who doesn’t use their brain for more than just meaningless contrived tasks. I’m of the persuasion that to think on a higher level requires one to be unhappy. Granted, its pretentious to label one’s self a ‘higher thinker’, but anyone in agreeance knows what I’m saying. Ignorance is bliss, but only to those who know not that their ignorant, and for whom bliss is comprised of the lack of hardship. I’m not saying that dumb people are religious, or that smart people cant be, to put it simply, I’m declaring that anyone who believes in something wholeheartedly is missing something.
The Chinese culture has a legend about a man who built a boat and lived through a flood. The Muslims’ have a story about a man swallowed by a large fish. The American Indians have a story about a man whose strength found its source in something other than muscle mass. My innermost beliefs are found to be wanting and unoriginal. To believe that one knows the answers to everything is conceited. To throw off the shackles of organized religion and think for yourself is mutiny. Who can be right? Who finds truth in something fundamentally wrong? Why is it that a loving god would create a place of eternal damnation and torture? These are the questions that plague my chemically induced thoughts, these are essentially the issues that try my soul. Anything can be used as a crutch, so what’s to say that everything isn’t a crutch? Existence has been reduced to a system of justification, adaptation, and execution. Meaning has no meaning, worth is worthless. For one to rise above others is to limit the actions of a population, but a population rising above a ruling class is anarchy. To think for yourself is to defy tradition, and the defamation of tradition makes one an outcast, but cultures are different, and the prerequisites for being cast out change, so what defies right and wrong better than relativism?. Where is truth? What is truth? Can truth exist?
At the end of the day, when the clearing of ones mind is necessary to obtain slumber, all of this must be dismissed. The fact that questions of such enormity can be simply swept aside suggests that essentially a human being must do what is necessary to exist. This entire piece is hypocrisy. I must live in order to think, and I must think in order to live, but when thinking puts my existence in peril, who am I to change the train of thought? 
Man is a giant Rubix Cube, except not as color coded. When each side has been successfully organized and completed, we move on to the next puzzle. I find myself stuck, with eight out of nine squares sharing a similar pigment. In order to complete my puzzle, I must reorganize not only one square, but five other sides with a sum of forty five other squares. I’m unwilling to do this so my life remains uncompleted, but who is to say that my mere 8/54 average is bad?