I am a fifteen year-old female atheist, and I wholeheartedly agree with what you say about atheism. Everyone thinks
that simply because I don't believe in God the way they all do I must be some kind of evil satanist. But actually, most people who don't believe in God don't believe in Satan either.
Anyway, I also think this is a great site with true stories, There is NOTHING better than death.
I was drifting in and out of my body, from darkness into light, simultaneously. There were sounds demanding that I leave my wonderful bliss to come back to life. Doctors calling my name. I looked upon it all with a strange indifference. And I could see myself. I could hear a machine beeping. People were slapping me, shaking me, tossing me around, sticking things into me, and I just didn't care. I was in bliss and I really just wanted to die, because at that moment I realized there was no death. It was exactly like drifting into the best sleep ever.
Things I knew somewhere else returned to me. I knew everything. And I realized how right I had been all along believing that God isn't a being. It is the love that feels so blissful. It is what holds humans together. And it forgives. It never wants anything bad for us. Especially not hell. And I did drift for a short time, following this love that had been with me all eternity.
I was clinically dead. My heart stopped beating. But somehow I was still alive and i knew it, I just wasn't in my brain. But my mind or soul was still there, and a part of me refused to follow whatever was leading me off into that wonderful sleep. My body was dead. I was going to leave so many people in trouble. How had I gotten there? Why did they so desperately want me to stay? Why couldn't I just leave it all behind?
Because somehow they revived my body, and then I went on a voyage back into it, which I cannot define. I knew everything about existence. Love is God. It is what holds atoms together. And my parents were beside my body. And even though I was still indifferent to it all, something made me fight the urge to sleep and come back to life. I would not drift into that
all-encompassing darkness. There was something I had done wrong and I had to fix it while still in my body. So I began vomiting. All the alcohol.
I cannot say I hate the experience, because I think it was the most
interesting thing ever. It was love for my friends that made me live,
because I just wouldn't leave them to deal with the law blaming them for my
dying. After all, it was my choice to drink over a fifth of tequila and I
couldn't stand thinking of someone else getting charged with my mistakes.
But I can't help but wonder what that dream feeling was.