
How much for this faith?
“I got it! Finally! Faith! I found my Faith! In this underworld stripped of any faith I found mine! My own! Precious! Undeniable! I escaped the cold hands of nihilistic thoughts and the mesmerizing tentacles of the hedonistic poison!
Valuable is what is rare! My Faith is priceless!”
And now, when you finally got it — how much is it worth to you? Is it as valuable as your life?
Era of division! Shadow more dark than ever! Light so bright it blinds the eyes! The Right so right it lacks the Left, the Left so left it lacks the Right! The parents: Mother and Father torn apart. Order to Chaos! The known is unknown!
Generations to come will call us madmen. (But will they learn?)
“Question everything!” — so I ask: “why?”. By questioning the questioning… do I question? Do I rebel or do I obey? In my ignorance I must confess: I never heard anybody ask this question in a serious manner. Like a sacred chant, protected from any doubt, they cry for their godless deities. When do I question a thing? Simply by asking “why”?
Maybe that’s why people tend to be hostile towards the “why” I dare to pronounce. Isn’t the question “why” in itself hostile? How dare I ask for one’s motivation? One’s being? How dare I undermine their existence? Their identity?
Finally, after years of floating in a black void of meaninglessness, they found values forth dying and living for! Something bigger than them! In times rich in faith does one value it the same as when none of it can be found? Does one living in the middle of a hot desert value a warm coat the same as someone placed in a freezing tundra?
The spiritual void is a place of a certain climate. It freezes and burns at the same time. Your bones break like ice but your skin melts as if burned by thousand suns. At certain point no one, not even the hardest of men can withstand the jaws that bite into one’s mind, one’s spirit. The questions of, regarded as foolish at first, “am I worth something? Am I important? Am I something with value?” pounds like a hammer on thick walls of our ignorance. But every day they become weaker. Every day the foundations of them erode. At some point they break. But the pounding does not stop. It’s hitting hard. Harder every day. So hard that one could take his own life just to alleviate one’s suffering.
Why just that? If one can take revenge on the universe, on society, on men for the cruelty of being itself…
You killed your gods.
You saw the bones revealed by unrelenting winds of time. A glimpse was enough to know they were human. Skulls pierced by bullets, necks broken by ropes, skeleton crushed by great force generated by falling down from height. You smell fresh corpses still coming out from the sand.
In this godless world any glimmer of faith is like an oasis on a great desert. Finally you found it. There are rejuvenating waters, the cooling shadows of the trees and animals you can herd. The joy of finding such a place is a reward in itself. You drink up to extinguish the burning thirst. You finally feel good. This is your treasure, your home…
… but
… what if someone will come and take it? Or destroy it? Such waste!
No, no, no!
Build the walls! Raise the towers! Man them up! Knock the arrows, sharpen the spears! Guard it with your life! Even with your death! Kill everyone on sight!
Then build a throne out of the bones of the dead bodies for everyone to remember that to sin against this place is to die.
“Why we do that?” — how dare one asks such a question? Aren’t you blind? How can you not understand? How can you not feel it? You must be broken. And with sacred fire of the holy flame we will cleanse you. We will repair you.
Welcome to the world of the Modern Men.
Farewell
P.S. Watch out though. What if your precious oasis is nothing more than a mirage?
