thorns
this body means nothing to me at all
- Joined
- Jul 9, 2024
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But then it gets worse. The system we know as capitalism steps in to enslave us. Now, our already pointless time isn’t even our own. We’re stripped of direction, guidance, and now, even the freedom to decide how to wait for the end. And yet, they offer a final "solution" — God. Life may be unbearable and miserable, but it’s all excused because they promise that the real game starts after death. All of life’s hardship, the fact that you can't even choose how to bide your time before leaving this reality (as even that is sold by the elite for mere crumbs they can print at will) is justified by this narrative: this life is merely a warm-up for what really matters — eternal salvation.
How can anyone not see the absurdity of this argument? It’s obviously a tool for social control, nothing more. And here’s the punchline: outside of this societal RPG we’re trapped in, we are all the same. We live, and then we die. That means, on the grand scale of reality, whether your life is miserable or not is utterly insignificant. The human brain adapts to its situation, so much so that a disabled Japanese child in servitude could be happier than the incredibly privileged son of a multibillionaire. This is God's final joke. We are given a game where some supposedly have vastly superior lives to others, in an obvious display of inequality — yet even this is no guarantee of happiness. Life is nothing, and the harder you try to assign meaning to it, the more miserable you become. The happiest people are those blissfully unaware, lacking any self-awareness, waiting for their death without ever realizing that’s what they’re doing.
Only a being who despises us could permit this cycle of suffering with such apparent cruelty. If God exists, he hates us all. He doesn’t just hate the ugly, the poor, the uneducated. He hates each and every one of us equally.
My suggested Escape, and What I'm Doing Next:
My suggested escape route: do whatever it takes to reclaim at least your time for yourself, then create art. Any kind — whatever comes to mind. Try to secure a passive or semi-passive income; yes, it’s still a form of enslavement, but at least you’ll have the freedom to choose how to spend your days. From there, look inward for expressions that have emerged from your own lived experiences, and make art. I’ll make music until my last day.