Tokyo Damage Report

my religion

I used to believe there was no God. However, recently I had a vision. It came to me in the shower, after a significant amount of Smirnoff. But a vision nonetheless: if the catholics can drink wine, I can drink vodka. At least my libation doesn’t turn to blood in my fucking duodenum. But I digress.
I believe that there IS a God. He loves you, forgives you, and all that. But he can’t contact or save you or influence you, any more than you can influence or contact him. He can only watch you, your ups and downs, your lies and your virtues, wanting to touch you, but failing. His ONLY contact with the human soul comes when a person dies. As the human’s soul slips out of the body, God slips into the body. But the body is dead so God can’t do anything. In every graveyard there are hundreds or thousands of lonely bits of God. And this goes on, forever. You can spend your whole life praying to Him, but you only encounter Him the second you die, and in a millisecond later, before you can even see his face, your soul is floating up in the sky, to disperse forever, like so much secondhand smoke. No heaven. No hell. Just a God that loves us and is forever denied, over and over. Trapped in our rotting husks. Still just as cut off from humanity as he was in Heaven.
So, what should I call this religion of mine?

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