I never really concerned myself overmuch with the details of the faith I belonged to, I just knew CCD school (still don't know what those initials stand for) was nothing but glorified brainwashing, and I was sick and tired of watching grainy filmstrips about the life of saints. I made my first communion, and all I remember about it was a little song-and-dance routine they made us do, and frolicking through a field of dandelions with my friend Erin, dressed in white and wearing my mother's wedding veil and a circlet of satin rosebuds around a statue of Mary, which in retrospect seems like a pretty pagan thing to do, ironically.
Aside from the decidedly cardboard-like taste of communion wafers, I didn't take anything upon leaving the faith that I hadn't brought with me, through common sense, into it.
So why'd I leave? Simple. I made a deal with god, he reneged, so I up and left...
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