I read the “We are Gods” article by Roux de boy with some interest and with some sadness, on reflection. My sense of sadness was because Roux de boy really seems to think that together we can make the world a better place, in the name of his belief or lack thereof. This is noble but truly a hopeless dream. I was interested because of the optimism he showed in trying to make something that he believes is a meaningless mistake, better.
Let’s have a look at man, realistically. I want the reader to see the world which I see, a false world, one which is divided not by religion, but by people.
Man and his needs, man and his desires of independence, his inconsistencies, his wearies and his unrest. The nature of his self love encompasses his world, his selfishness. He cannot prevent himself being full of faults and wants. He wants to be joyous and sees himself as miserable. He wants to be happy but sees himself full of imperfections. He wants to be the object of love amongst others at all costs; he wants to be esteemed by men, but he sees his faults only merit their hatred and contempt (and sometimes even his virtues by jealousy). He devotes his time to covering up and annihilating the truth about his faults not just to others, but to himself; his honour the most important thing to him. He cannot endure that others should point out his faults out to him, or that they should even see them. He does think it fair that those who he stands side by side with are held in higher esteem.
Human life is a perpetual illusion; men deceive each other and flatter each other. No one speaks about them in their presence as they do in their absence; if they do it as seen as a favour. Human society is founded on mutual deceit; few friendships would endure if each knew what the other said in his absence. Man is then only a disguise, a falsehood, hypocrisy, both in him and in regards to others.
Man never stops seeking, never stops distracting himself. He cannot lay still. He has some bizarre instinct to seek amusement, he gets itchy feet which arise from his constant unhappiness He thinks a goal or accomplishment will be the final destination, that’s when his life will begin, that is when his joy will start; only to find that that feeling is short lived and a new kick must be found. He has another remnant of nature’s instinct which tells him to rest, not to stir; just to relax and be happy. Between these two instincts there is confusion because he gets his relaxation and his happiness through excitement, always under the belief that the satisfaction that he does not have will come to him, buy surmounting whatever difficulties that confront him, he can thereby open the door to rest. Rest thus becomes insufferable.
We scarcely think about the present; we occupy our minds with the past and the future. If our condition were truly happy we would not need diversion from thinking about the present it in order to make ourselves happy. We do not rest satisfied with the present for the present is generally painful to us. With a sense of nostalgia we dream of those times which are no more and overlook that which alone exists. When delight presents itself to us we regret to see it pass away and the slow descent back to reality can cause even more pain. We try to sustain happiness by thinking and arranging matters which are not in our power, and that we have no certainty of reaching. Men are not able to fight death and misery so they have taken it into their heads to not think of them at all. We are hopeless.
We know ourselves so little that many think they are about to die when they are well, and may think they are well when they are about to die. We don’t require great education to understand that there is no real and lasting satisfaction that our pleasures are only vanity, that our evils are infinite; and lastly, after all of our sufferings, that death, which threatens us at every moment, must infallibly place us under the dreadful necessity of being forever annihilated or unhappy. There is no more real thing than this and nothing more terrible.
Let us reflect on this and say whether it is beyond doubt that there is no good in this life, but in the hope of another life, for all of us; and that life has been promised by submitting to a creator.
There is not true peace within us. There is no unending joy. There is restlessness and there is uncertainty. We are all here asking each other the same question. What for? And why?
Without life, the universe as we know it is dead. And even within life as we know it, there is no beauty, no meaning, no understanding, and no comprehending. There is no purpose, no reason, no personal success, and not existential progress, no love, no joy, no wonder, no hope. There is nothing but “pitiless indifference”.
There are no answers to mankind’s questions which lie within the stars. Mankind may be made of stardust but why does that stardust even exist? As Roux de boy says, “Life itself has blossomed into absolutely astounding and amazing potential, making us capable of actually thinking about it, appreciating it and loving it.” We then should love each other implicitly and live like other species, in harmony and understanding. But we don’t.
There is something else going on. Amongst this struggle there is something common, in all of us, which is crying out. We have an indescribably yearning for happiness. Our inexplicable want for every person - even those we don’t know and have never met - on earth to be fed; to have a happy and thriving family. Within all of us there is an indescribable love that we want to share with all people. Our heart aches to see animals tortured, children starving, families murdered and innocence defiled.
To say that there is no meaning is hurtful to humanity itself. To try and attach meaning to anything, if not ourselves, becomes pointless. No deep burning passion for the love of your child, the eternal care to see them happy, no yearning desire to see a lost relative just one more time, to touch them and hug them and tell them that you love them and miss them. No meaning to anything. This is just not so. Only the truly confused and very lost believe this and it is them who really deserve true pity.
We have an option for a perfect love if only the distractions of the world would let everyone see it. But distractions are abundant. Sometimes you have to lose everything and let go of all that you thought was important only to realise that it was nothing, and what you thought was nothing before then becomes everything and true happiness lies there within.
Yes. We have God within us, but we are not gods. We are mere dying mortals in a dying world.
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