We question everything we do. It’s in our nature. I imagine how this whole belief thing began. Sun rises. Winter ends. Spring and life begin. Autumn flourishes. Winter rests, restores. It didn’t take a genius to work it out. It took a genius, though, to turn it into a cauldron of power. Such evil genius, its been repeated again and again through the eons of time. Wars are won and lost, millions die, countries and fortunes, lost and regained. It’s a poisoned apple, the worm in the machine when the answer to why we live becomes we’re dying to believe.
Word count: 100.
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A very accurate depiction of life, great read.
Thanks, Matthew. It was one of those prompt things about belief. I didn’t read the prompt right. It was supposed to be 120 words. Oh well.
My opinion, why? It was perfect. You could quote some dead guys, because yesterday, is still today.
It says as much as I want to say on the subject of religion. I wrote a song for a blues musician friend of mine once called ‘Dying to Believe’. Unfortunately, he never recorded it. He died.
I was watching something, a comedian, and he said, I can prove to you how religion controls everything, how religion is all. His question was, go anywhere in the world and ask what year it is.
Very true