People make religion nowadays into this big awful nasty sinister thing created merely to oppress and destroy and squash the human spirit. But almost nobody talks about how it is first and foremost an expression of JOY of the BEAUTY and COMPLEXITY of the human condition.
Because goddamn Are we ever complicated and screwy I mean, I don’t know if you’ve been looking around much or at yourself but shit. This stuff’s pretty hard to figure it out. May as well find things that are beautiful and meaningful to you if you can’t find some kind of final absolute answer, right? I mean, it’s either that or unending existential dread. But even that is a reflection of a kind of beauty. The beauty of melancholy, of being forlorn and dejected and of late night panic attacks and drug binges.
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