Conversations, that’s what we long for, and you will understand what I am saying if you are a writer. We don’t like small talk, we like talks about life, pain, hurt comfort; we like theories, about universe, energy, emptiness, love, and above all, we like dealing with human emotions, that’s how we survive, we write what world hide. It’s comforting for us, we are addicted, until our pen spills our thoughts, we can’t sleep. We are opinionated, but we may change if your presentation is nice. That’s what happened with me.
It was the talk I usually like, being an atheist and asking reasons to believe in an energy divine, and they present something, that surpassed my reasoning abilities and I started laughing, ironically.
“What? Why are you laughing?”
“Did any of these remarks made sense? It’s illogical.”
“God is not a logic, it’s a belief, both can’t go together.”
“That means God who created you, implanted a program called logic in your system which will make his creation think that there wasn’t any creator”
She stayed silent for a while, and then asked me what’s my belief?
“I believe that its human nature to seek comfort, and hence create something that will make us feel comfortable, safe, give us hope to carry on.”
“What’s the discomfort that we feel?”
“Well, it’s more of a mental condition. Our mind questions everything, and when there aren’t any answers it start making some. We are all empty, I notice that every day, we stare at the horizon every time we aren’t doing something productive. We drown into self pity, and it’s very easy to imagine that one is not treated well, one doesn’t have a good friends, people don’t love us, we are just a piece of shit and some of it might be true. Our mind, over thinking mind makes us uncomfortable. It’s not just about me, it’s about us all.”
“And how do you think God helps us find comfort?”
“Well, God is an idea that helped us frame rules to run our society. The concept of heaven and hell, I don’t believe that. We are here, and that’s what we know, life happens, makes us uncomfortable, and that’s all because we were taught to believe in justice, fairness. Our thoughts, our principles, are all doped with these morals that don’t work in life.”
“But thinking that we will get results after this life ends; it makes me feel better, why can’t you just accept that there is someone who is in control? What’s you belief?”
“I believe that there is no heaven and no hell, and it’s not going to change because we will die. I believe that either there is no God, or he is very cruel, for he enjoys watching us suffer. I know that you have a theory called Karma for that too, but I believe that it’s the life that matters, and not the afterlife, or pre-birth about which we can guess or believe, to help us through sufferings. I believe that it’s better to know that life is not fair, but until you die, you have to live with it.”
“But then what should we live for? We know we work for judgment day when we believe he exist, what’s the point of living without purpose? I can’t agree with you over this. Its my belief that defines my life, gives meaning to it. My every action was based on what I believe in, you can’t just take them, away and give me a new theory called life happens in which I have to know that life is uncomfortable and I have to deal with it.”
“But knowing that it makes more sense helps me. At least I am not folowing tradiotions blindly in which I don’t even believe.” I replied
“And it makes more sense because you devised it. I am happier with my God.”
I was tired, for she was not willing to accept, and neither was I for she didn’t present well, so I decided to try and end it.
“Does your God theory make your life more comfortable? It doesn’t take away my pain.”
“Neither am I, but I was raped; what’s your excuse?”she replied sarcastically. It hurt.
It gave me something to think, and I couldn’t reply her. Her question made me ask; am I really uncomfortable? Are we at all uncomfortable? I keep being cynical about life, I say it’s dark; I kept telling her about theory of life, was I right? Or am I just like others, weak to accept the reality, who knows? I know that my discomfort was nothing compared with her and that my life wasn’t that dark after all…