My love for god doesn’t make me religious; it makes me agnostic. Though I’m too doubtful to believe there’s a god, I can’t commit to the atheism of thinking that there’s no god at all. I’m cursed to be agnostic, wanting to believe god’s there but unsure if he is.
“I thought I was suffering from not being loved, and yet it is because I thought I was loved that I was suffering; I lived in the complication of supposing myself simultaneously loved and abandoned.” (Barthes, 187)
To me, absolute faith in religion sounds like stubbornness. When people assume their beliefs are the absolute truth, those beliefs become their false gods. This is how they invented blasphemy. They get ready to kill and die for their false gods because they believe it’ll make them immortal.
“Absolutely faith in religion is immortality, atheism is death, and agnosticism is living.” (Roland Barthes: Love as a Language, The Artifice)
I’m not too fond of ideologies. Instead, I prefer the mutability in god’s image, which guards it against simulation. The truth is undefinable; it simply exists. I can only share my observations, which nonetheless feel revelatory. However, language cannot capture god’s essence, “the truth.”
“[T] the more I experience the specialty of my desire, the less I can give it a name.” (Barthes, 20)
After “Roland Barthes: Love as Language”, The Artifice
