Atheists are chronic pessimists. These perpetual Debby Downers cannot justify their existence-- they have no good reason to be alive, and see no logic in their deaths either. They want their lives to count for something, but underneath it all, they're aware that in the grand scheme of things: their life counts for nothing eternal-- just another nondescript organic blip on the cosmological radar screen.
As I decline and wax older and older, I feel a sadness for the loss of my youth. There was a time when I was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed: long-winded, active, loaded with stamina and vitality; and could get by with very little rest. The skin on my face, and under my chin, was tight, and my middle was lean and defined. Today I'm sag-bottomed and flaccid; the skin on my neck is drooping and developing the appearance of tortoise hide.
The great cowboy artist Charles Russell once commented that time traded him wrinkles for teeth. Me too. I've lost a few, some are capped, and my gums have receded.
While that was going on inside my mouth, the rest of me was undergoing deterioration too until today, at 74, the chiseled Greek god with shiny chestnut hair, ripped muscles, and soft hazel eyes I was at 25 has disappeared; replaced by an arthritic senior citizen with diverticulosis and prostate cancer, metal knees, lens implants from cataract surgery, declining short term memory, bags under his eyes, brittle gray filaments on his head instead of the suppleness and sheen of LΌRÉAL tresses, the corners of his mouth turned down giving him the appearance of an old crank, and about as much libido as a dried fig; not to mention taking pills for his thyroid, his cholesterol, his blood pressure, and his reduced kidney function. Whoever said "You're not getting older, you're getting better" must've been smoking mushrooms 'cause it just ain't so.
Believing there's a supreme being, a future world, and a new body, lifts my spirits and strengthens me to cope with aging and the onset of death. If my expectations are valid; then I have a great, eternal future out ahead in a world where youth is the norm, and no one dies, gets old, or gets sick.
Even if my expectations are totally misguided, I'm still far better off than Atheists who have resigned themselves to futility, to a pointless existence; to die and be recycled back into the matrix like fertilizer; the meanwhile suppressing a gnawing anxiety in the back of their minds that there just might be a supreme being after all. And if it turns out there is no supreme being; I won't live to regret it. But if it turns out there really is a supreme being, the Atheist will be every disappointed.
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