Perpetual Apostasy

I am haunted by the religious impulse. A quirk of evolution, a product of childhood indoctrination? Attempts at uncovering its roots have been stymied by my own idiocy. Decades of study, practice, and reflection, all for naught. To be clear, this isn’t a question of god(s), or even religions per se. My antitheism is up there with antinatalism as one of the few ‑isms on solid ground. The Abrahamic god is an amalgamation of Near Eastern myths and superstitions. The resultant religions are pathetic death cults and money-laundering schemes. So opening my heart to a failed Jewish cult leader isn’t the answer. Don’t email me about it. No, this impulse is a bit more nebulous. Attempts at defining it become exercises in hollow verbosity, word salads that leave you wanting. It’s just a feeling, and damn it all if that isn’t the most frustrating thing to wrap your head around. But here I sit, trying to do it anyway. It’s something at the periphery, just out of sight; more intuited than…