Recently I've heard people walking around claiming that they are god. . .You ask someone a question, "why is that?" They reply, "Because I'm god."
This got me to thinking. . . Why do these people harbour these absurd delusions of being god? The answer was simple enough to find. . .
I recalled many theories. The first being that god controls the destiny of man, an old solid christian belief. Then another theory crossed my mind. . . Man is in control of his own destiny, this is a younger, popular, and entirely valid theory. The idea that man is in control of his own destiny is a strong belief in the scientologist church. After these two theories and their roots processed in my mind. . . Another thought formed, I recalled a lecture I once attended with my sister and my mother, they had no where else to stick me, this lecture posed the theory that all religions are basically one and the same, they all come from the same place.
Adding it all up in my mind, I then formed the following theory of my own (disregard it entirely if you must, I can't stop you):
God controls the destiny of man, yet man (for the most part) is in control of his own destiny. . . Therefore it is safe to assume that god is man and man is god.
Loopoles in this theory:
-God is perfect, man is not. . .
-Creation
-Exsistance itself
Sealing those loopholes. . . First. . .Man is the most perfect animal. . Because it is imperfect. We learn from our mistakes, some of us find beauty where others see none. . . It's a balance. . What some lack, other make up for, in abundance. Second, creation. . . We're here. . . Do we honestly need to know how we came to be randomly shat into exsistance? I think not. . .
Finally, exsistance on a whole. . . It's the longest most confusing chain reaction in the history of itself. Everything plays off of everything else. Because I do something here. . . Something good or bad will happen somewhere else or down the road. . . We create these problems, and the idea of god is just a scapegoat. A mer crutch for the imperfections we choose not to deal with.
The very imperfections which make us godly and more perfect.
"Even the Mona Lisa is falling apart"
circa the deviantART user wordsareuseless
This got me to thinking. . . Why do these people harbour these absurd delusions of being god? The answer was simple enough to find. . .
I recalled many theories. The first being that god controls the destiny of man, an old solid christian belief. Then another theory crossed my mind. . . Man is in control of his own destiny, this is a younger, popular, and entirely valid theory. The idea that man is in control of his own destiny is a strong belief in the scientologist church. After these two theories and their roots processed in my mind. . . Another thought formed, I recalled a lecture I once attended with my sister and my mother, they had no where else to stick me, this lecture posed the theory that all religions are basically one and the same, they all come from the same place.
Adding it all up in my mind, I then formed the following theory of my own (disregard it entirely if you must, I can't stop you):
God controls the destiny of man, yet man (for the most part) is in control of his own destiny. . . Therefore it is safe to assume that god is man and man is god.
Loopoles in this theory:
-God is perfect, man is not. . .
-Creation
-Exsistance itself
Sealing those loopholes. . . First. . .Man is the most perfect animal. . Because it is imperfect. We learn from our mistakes, some of us find beauty where others see none. . . It's a balance. . What some lack, other make up for, in abundance. Second, creation. . . We're here. . . Do we honestly need to know how we came to be randomly shat into exsistance? I think not. . .
Finally, exsistance on a whole. . . It's the longest most confusing chain reaction in the history of itself. Everything plays off of everything else. Because I do something here. . . Something good or bad will happen somewhere else or down the road. . . We create these problems, and the idea of god is just a scapegoat. A mer crutch for the imperfections we choose not to deal with.
The very imperfections which make us godly and more perfect.
"Even the Mona Lisa is falling apart"
circa the deviantART user wordsareuseless
Labels: essay
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