The Incredible Humiliation of the Afterlife

Source: Hieronymous Bosch/wikiart

I started writing these lines surrounded by an environment of religiosity harassed by the thought of an afterlife, numbed by the sheer meaningless of life. Yes, the thought is horrifying, depressing, and gives an empty feeling.

But is this feeling of worthlessness and emptiness worth more than the condemnation of eternal existence?

Let us forget logic and reason for a moment. Let us suppose for a moment that humans would be subjected to an afterlife. As if the humiliation of one lifetime were not enough. And to add insult to injury that there would be a higher being to judge humans and to either condemn them to hell or reward them with paradise.

While most people would not find a thought more appealing, would anything be more humiliating? Would they not be satisfied with the comfortable isolation of oblivion? Isn’t the curse of one life enough? It is horrifying how people are motivated to resort to absurdities enticed by such a prize.

It is horrifying how people are motivated to resort to absurdities out of the enticement of eternal life. And add the mythology of the Abrahamic faiths to the thought and it would horrify you even further. Because a God bestowing eternal life could as easily condemn you to the inferno, being as angry and jealous he sounds like.

And even if that is true, just imagine the humiliation of such an afterlife. Whether you are condemned to hell or awarded with the pleasures of paradise, the sheer humiliation of going through it would be unbearable. Would there be anything more insulting to the self-respect of a sentient creature?

There is no wonder that Eastern cultures with philosophies such as Buddhism have the concept of moksha to escape the carnal cycle of birth and death. With the caveat of existing in a higher state of consciousness. But it is like a cry out to protest the misery of the existence forced on every creature.

Does a part of me want to indulge in the promised delights of paradise and reunite with family and friends if there is a life after death? Yes. But there is a part of me that knows that existence involves pain and dread.

Wouldn’t they instead give anything to escape the horror of life? The horror of existence?

Would they force this misery on others?

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The Cruel Plan

Source:www,immoderati.it

Source:www,immoderati.it

The more you study the condition of nature with cold, hard scientific facts, the more you come to the conclusion of how much of a disaster life actually is.

It is simply shocking how vulnerable and condemned to doom every living organism is. The physical nature of this condition is not as much shocking as the psychological and emotional struggle requried to sustain it.

It is important to consciously acknowledge that at least any human being, if not all sentient animals, need a functional psychological and emotional balance to get through the ordeal of living.

Given these disturbing and disabling facts, it is only amazing how an intelligent species capable of making up completely meaningless concepts to feel better about their meaningless existence. Especially when the meaningless concepts cruelly promise to liberate from God’s cruel plan, which only makes the misery of it even worse.

Sorry, if the word God offended you, but most of us like to personalize someone at the back of this cruel plan. Otherwise, it is hard to make any sense of it.

So, what to do about it? Because for the incurably depressed and perpetually curmudgeonly, the eventual logical step is suicide. I believe it is an intellectual conclusion, despite everything.

But life is strong, self-protective and self-preserving. Pretty strange for a meaningless creature, but not so much for a cruel one.

 

Therefore, the most important function of conscious, sentient life is to overcome the realization of the condition of life and to indulge in the meaningless meaningful, fulfilling, yet distracting concepts of self-fulfillment.

 

A Self-Inflicted Loss

Source: vector-eps.com

Source: vector-eps.com

It happened to me again.

All over again, deja vu. History repeating itself.

Just when I thought I had learned all my lessons. Just when I thought that it would never happen to me again, it just did.

No, it wasn’t an accident. Or maybe it was. But it was certainly my own doing. My own fault.

I shattered my world with my own hands.

I did this to myself. A self-inflicted wound.

A self-inflicted loss.

I am the architect of my own misery.

With false pride, anger, hubris, decadent complacency and impulsive misery,

I have broken the glass of my memories, while I could have saved it, while planning to save it, and nothing can put it back together now.

All I have now is regret. Regret, and false solace.

A suspended consciousness.

I’m helpless, longing for somebody to help me… though I know no one can.

At least somebody to reach out to. Though with never the right answers.

There is no right answer.

I’m helpless, but not regretting existence, or probably doing so.

I know nothing is more precious than life, and love of the loved ones.

Nothing is more important.

 

That’s what keeps you going, to let you fight another day.

To let you live another way.

 

In Hell

Source: amusingplanet.com

Source: amusingplanet.com

So how does it feel to be in hell?

It doesn’t even matter if you believe in it or not. Living through it is perhaps only a matter of time.

It’s constant pain. Constant agony. Constant regrets. A sense of loss that doesn’t go away. Something you have lost that will never come back. All alone. Vulnerable.

It is when your existence becomes a case study of the Murphy’s Law.

It is when history repeats itself and you watch it happening. Condemned to.

It is when you fail to learn from your mistakes and know you won’t. Curse yourself for it.

It is when your indulgence leads you to the sort of informed and conscious complacency that you can’t help resist.

It’s like looking a maneater in the face and waiting for him to devour you.

It’s like staring into the face of a distant train approaching and waiting for it to hit you.

It is like perpetually falling from a height and just expecting to hit the ground the next moment and starting over again.

It is when you wish you never existed. But isn’t that always true, even when pleasure is wrapped around you.

It is when you simply wish you could go back in time… Time… Time… Isn’t it always about it?

It is when you give up hope.

It is when you look for a rope.

It is when you wish you had no regrets… you thought you had no regrets…

 

It is when you find out that life is one big regret.

 

 Source: Polygram Filmed Entertainment/Universal