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We Create the Good
God. Why do you want one? Sorry, why do you want Him? I don’t understand. What has He given you, exactly? Pain, death, violence, inequality, oppression, prejudice, injustice…damage. Of course, you say, there is a plan; God has a plan. There is a reason for your pain, a purpose. It makes you stronger; without it you wouldn’t recognize your happiness. But I think you’re wrong. I don’t need the pain. I am done with the pain, not of me, but of others. Do I wish to see the unfairness of the world, the people I care about be hurt? The ones who deserve it the least? No. And I ask you, beg you, please explain to me how the knowledge that one individual, one being, is responsible for it all is a comfort. That He lets it happen, that the bad grows the good.
I hope with every tensing muscle, every heated word, every taking tear, every convulsing controlling sob and every ungratified and unheard bewail that they are not to Him, they are not to Him. That they are to the deserted yet somehow crowded everything that surrounds us, to that unreal pressure and forceful principle that is so much better than Him, so much more stained and shameless, so impure and crude it commands all dignity, and your respect. I hope you see the world is not some beautiful thing, that it is grotesque. And that does not make it bad, but only the best good, only because we ourselves make it, no one else.
We assemble the world around us and engender our own morality within ourselves. Why would you want it to be anyone else responsible but yourself? Is it because of the pain? The pain, is, after all, not created by Him, but by ourselves, and by nothing, and for no reason. I would rather lose the burden of guilt of what I have done, and what people do. I want to retreat into ignorance, I want to know it will all end well, and will stay that way after. That bad will be punished. But I don’t want to be part of the after, that everlasting forever, because I know it is not real.
It is beautiful, but I don’t want beauty, I just want life. Give me something imperfect and with the audacity to be unapologetic for its humanness, for its humanity. Because it knows it can’t help being human, a human that can form the world around them, and can deal with the pain surrounding it, that sees the unfairness and knows there is no reason to it. Yes, it is unfair. We create the bad, not him. But I accept that unfairness, the pain that we create the pain, because I know We create the good too.
And I hope We never accept the bad as good.
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