Facebook surfaces another gem and still rings true!
Hey. You. Yeah, you—the one scrolling while pretending to sip coffee that went cold 20 minutes ago. Let’s talk about something real. Not the “did-you-see-that-TikTok?” kind of real. The kind that hits you at 2 a.m. when the world’s quiet and your brain whispers: “What if none of the stories they told us about being ‘broken’ or ‘sinful’ are true?”
Spoiler: They’re not.
Let’s start here:
“I am not evil,
I am not fallen,
I am not a sinner,
I am not an abomination,
I am simply a primate trying to do the least amount of damage and experience the most happiness on this rock until I am recycled back into the universe.”
Mic drop. Coffee sip. Let’s go.
Labels Are Like Socks: They Stink After a While
Think about the last time someone called you a name. Not the playground “poophead” stuff, but the heavy stuff. Selfish. Toxic. Lost. Feels like swallowing a rock, right? Now imagine carrying labels like “sinner” or “fallen” your whole life. That’s not a rock—it’s a boulder strapped to your back.
Here’s the thing: Labels are someone else’s leftovers. They’re handed down like that weird casserole your aunt insists on bringing to Thanksgiving—you didn’t ask for it, and honestly, it’s kinda sus.
Religious guilt? Cultural shame? They’re just stories. Powerful ones, sure—stories built temples and started wars—but still stories. And stories can be edited. Rewritten. Hell, thrown into a bonfire while roasting marshmallows.
So let’s try a rewrite:
“I’m not a sinner. I’m a slightly confused ape who figured out opposable thumbs and accidentally invented existential dread. Nice to meet you.”
You’re Not “Fallen”—You’re Just Jet-Lagged from Evolution
Let’s get Darwinian for a hot sec. We’re primates. Not the “ooh-ooh-ah-ah” kind (though, same vibe at open-office meetings), but the kind that evolved big brains and even bigger anxieties. We didn’t “fall” from some paradise—we climbed. Out of trees. Out of caves. Into suburbs and Starbucks drive-thrus.
But here’s the plot twist: Evolution didn’t give us a manual. We’re making this up as we go! We went from “fire good” to “existential crisis” in a few millennia. No wonder we’re stressed.
So cut yourself some slack. You’re not “fallen from grace”—you’re a work in progress. A glorified monkey with Wi-Fi, trying to balance online shopping and the meaning of life.
The Primate’s Guide to Not Screwing Everything Up
The MVP line: “Trying to do the least amount of damage and experience the most happiness.”
Step 1: Harm Reduction
Newsflash: You’re gonna mess up. You’ll forget to recycle. You’ll snap at your partner. You’ll buy fast fashion because dang, that shirt’s cute. Perfection isn’t the goal—awareness is.
Harm reduction isn’t about sainthood. It’s about asking:
- “Can I be 1% kinder today?”
- “Can I waste a little less?”
- “Can I apologize when I’m wrong instead of doubling down?”
That’s it. No halo required.
Step 2: Joy Maximization
Society loves to pathologize pleasure. “Guilty” pleasures. “Sinful” desserts. But joy isn’t a crime—it’s your biological birthright. You’re wired to seek it. So:
- Eat the cake.
- Binge the trashy TV.
- Nap without apology.
Happiness isn’t a reward for being “good.” It’s the point.
Cosmic Recycling: You’re Basically a Fancy Compost Pile
Let’s talk about the end. Not in a morbid way, but in a “whoa, science is cool” way. That line—“recycled back into the universe”—isn’t nihilism. It’s poetry.
Your body? Borrowed stardust. Your atoms were forged in dying stars, scattered across galaxies, and somehow ended up as you. When you die, those atoms will become soil, ocean, maybe part of a future alien’s tentacle. (or who knows what!!)
This isn’t depressing—it’s freeing. You don’t need to hustle for heaven or fear hell. You’re already eternal, just… rearranged.
Why This Mindset Fixes Everything (Okay, Most Things)
Labels thrive on shame. But when you ditch the script, magic happens:
- Guilt becomes curiosity (“Why did I do that?” vs. “I’m terrible”).
- Judgment becomes compassion (“They’re just another scared primate”).
- Fear of death becomes awe for life (“I’m made of stars—better act like it!”).
It’s not about rejecting spirituality. It’s about finding it in the mundane: morning coffee, a friend’s text, the way sunlight hits your dog’s stupid, perfect face.
How to Primate Like a Pro
Your field guide to unlabeled living:
- Talk back to shame: Next time your brain hisses “sinner,” say “Nope. Just a mammal who forgot to unload the dishwasher.”
- Touch grass: Literally. Remind yourself you’re part of a planet, not a theology exam.
- Throw a “Joy Fistfight”: When joy whispers (“Dance!” “Paint!” “Call your mom!”), punch guilt in the throat and say YES.
Final Thoughts (From One Confused Ape to Another)
You’re not here to be flawless. You’re here to be alive. To fumble, learn, scar, heal, and laugh so hard milk comes out your nose.
So the next time someone tries to slap a label on you, remember:
- You’re not a sinner.
- You’re not an abomination.
- You’re a temporary constellation of atoms trying to Netflix-and-chill your way through the chaos.
And honestly? That’s kind of beautiful.
Now go live your weird, messy, radiant primate life. The universe is rooting for you. 🌌✨
P.S. If anyone gives you flack, hit ’em with this: “Sorry, I’m too busy being stardust to care.” Mic drop. Exit stage left.