I am quite disconcerted at times by the prospect of my soul having dimmed in the face of all the horrors I've witnessed. I find myself pondering the prospect that this is the product of something beyond the physical, beyond the political; something of the divine, a realm of spirituality where belief can change existence.
I find myself of the belief that your 'God' is in fact the very being you call 'Satan'. A mask, worn by a thing of impurity, which presents itself as a thing of light most-pure.
For this you will say I am any number of things, but I doubt that any of them will be accurate. I find Abrahamism most foul in all its forms, all its many masks. I see your soul, should you ply yourself before the patron of such cults, in the grasp of something beyond human comprehension in the scope and depth of the horror demonstrated.
If there is a God, a singular point, I don't think it would ever deign to lower itself to communing with we simple creatures, anymore than I am inclined towards trying - or succeeding - to communicate with a single ant. I could speak at him all day, and it would be as mere thunder in the skies; I could whistle him a tune and it would be as the four winds; I could gesture in greeting and it would be the shaking of the Earth.
Nature is God, that is the only way it could be. It seems so obvious now. But it is late, and maybe it will seem less obvious tomorrow, when the drink and merriment has faded and the morning light brings hard-toil and frustrating interactions with entrapped minds and spirits once more.
It is often said around here that sacrifice is necessary. That man cannot grow without sacrifice, for he is both sculptor and marble. Mankind has never achieved anything without sacrifice, and it is our struggle which grants us the wisdom and strength which has allowed us to maintain ourselves throughout the millennia.
A soul is perhaps a viable sacrifice, is it not? What more could a man give?
Attached: Why Do You Let This Happen.jpg (746x497, 39.31K)