Some kind of God

I believe in some kind of god, but I don’t like him (or her) very much. I don’t agree with the premises he has built this life on. For example: Why do you allow humans to evolve into conscious beings and then forget to give them some kind of manual? What the fuck man? Are we just supposed to figure it out by ourselves? And then, in case one of us really does figure it out, some kind of prophet or shit, it doesn’t just work universally, because everyone has gotten a special, individual, cursed, fucked up life and their own specific problems, needs, and wishes. Not to mention cultural differences and various kinds of parents or even natural circumstances. Like, some poor fucker could be born next to a freaking volcano or finds himself in a badly constructed city during a massive earthquake, loses his parents, but finds his wife and baby well behind the city gates just to be brutally executed by some ludicrous mob. Hold on, that’s fiction. But imagine you’re born in Stalinist Russia and all your loved ones are starving miserably, just because of the decisions a few idiots in charge have made. Or your born in today’s Austria and you can literally fulfil almost all of your material needs, more than any king in the past centuries, and you think: “Wow, I’m so lucky.” But no! God fucking dies and leaves you alone to deal with depression and anxiety and you must pay some idiot hundreds of euros to fix you, while he’s probably even more fucked up than yourself and the only difference is that he has a paper that says: “Qualifizierter Psychotherapeut” and you don’t.

Anger. That’s what it’s called. Anger towards the world, towards life and god… Anger towards people too, but that one seems to be more superficial. Easier to solve. Easier to forgive. More graspable. The other one goes deeper, and it might be more dangerous and destructible, because it’s not directed against one enemy, but against all of them. Life itself becomes the enemy. And the fuel for it won’t run out either, since you only have to turn on your telly or talk to other people and that’ll give you more than enough to keep going. And how are you going to forgive an enemy that has no name and no form?

So, what can one do about all of this? Keep on complaining. Keep on talking. Keep on bullshitting yourself. Keep on lying. Keep on resisting. Keep on cursing. Keep on living because it’s better to curse than to kill. Better to complain than to hurt. Better to resist than to give up.

But who am I to say this? Someone who keeps on writing to survive, who keeps on bleeding in order to live, who keeps on talking shit to give the world soil to grow on. Someone who believes in some kind of god.

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