The Son of One's Father

Who has told me that it is not death that kills but sin ? Who has explained me that, at the last moment of my life, I will not regret having had too little money, too little glory but not having done my duty, not having been honest neither good toward myself and my fellows ?

Whether I have been made as God's image, was it my body or my soul ? My limited, imperfect and perishable flesh or my unlimited, perfectible and eternal soul ?

What must be perfected down here ? My temporary appearance that, no matter how much varnish I'd cover it with, will finish under the earth eaten by worms or my spiritual soul that everyone of us can carve, trim and engrave to become the most beautiful jewel of the world to be and to come ?

Who has explained me those solely and timeless truthes ? The school ? The government ? The religion ? My parents ? Fact is, if we were such an advanced species, all the aforementioned bodies ought to have done that, but, in our age as before, we have been taught to obey the letter and not the spirit; then, who is to blame ?

My father, who had to fight for his life since before he was born because he was insulted in the womb by all the tyrants that reign supreme the state and the family ? My teacher, who had to answer the law that tells him what to say or not to say ? My priest, who has no secular safety unless he explains the truth only to say that it is just a secondary matter long after the mundane behaving and the duty to obey the legitimate masters of the world ?

"Legitimate" !! Lawful ? From which court ? The Heaven's courthouse ? Oh no, not so, "the people's" tribunal, the secular judgement that says respect is first due to whom is giving you work, money, to your landlord, to your master, your earthly caretaker, no matter what sin you'll have to protect or to hide. That's called pleasure, progress, necessity, wisdom ...

There is no time to teach, to learn nor to accomplish man's real duty toward the only and real self that is our souls because time is money, because unlike animals we, humans, have to pay for having the right to live. We have to bend before our masters to be able to procreate, to be. Which woman does not care for money ? Why ? Because money is safety. What safety ? The body's. But do women have a choice ? They know that without money they and their children will be miserable.

And we, "Men" ? Have we booked a ticket to eternity or to hell ? To achieve what we might not be able to get through alone, have we gathered to grasp the power and reach the sole goal we have on earth as a human being or have we gathered to drink beer, to cheer a football team or to applaud the current tyrant and his minions in order to have a bigger part of the cake ?

Are we the sons of our Father, and are we fathers ourselves or are we numbers in a lottery game who'd like to be drawn more times than at one's turn ? Are we one against all the others or all together in the same boat ? Your choice ! Because there's always a choice, regardless of the -material - consequences !!

Yet, it is not how much cake one has eaten during a lifetime that will count at the last moment, or is it ???


What I've just written may sound Christian, or Buddhist, or from any religion that owes something to itself doesn't it ? Maybe, but the difference is that there is noone to follow, there is noone to greet except yourself because everyone of us is his own master in the endgame and the only way to win is to overcome our differences by understanding that there are not different ways to reach our goal to become free but only one that is the same all over the world. We are all the same at the beginning and in the end.

Let's say it again: 
"There is noone to follow except ourselves"
 and, as long as we don't understand that, 
nothing is done.

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