When I was a kid, I have always imagined that I'm talking to God. I was so steadfast in my belief back then, to the point that I would pray every chance I got. When other kids would bully me, I would curl up in a bed and sob my heart out to an invisible friend. But that was years ago.
Fast forward to nine years, and here I am, a person who can't even bear to think of believing. It's like a roaring fire was suddenly extinguished by a swift, cold wind (pardon the poor metaphors). What's left? Just a pile of boring, lifeless ash, with no sense of purpose whatsoever.
Don't get me wrong. I am enjoying this state of non-belief, this exhilarating freedom where I have no obligations whatsoever to a Higher Being. And contrary to the belief of most believers, I still keep my morals intact despite the fact that I am what they would call an atheist, thankyouverymuch.
But there's just something missing, and I would feel really out of place when my friends or family would pray, as if I didn't belong because I don't believe in a Higher Power. But no matter how I try, I just can't bring myself to believe again. There's just so much decadence in the system, so much SIN, that it would feel like I'm just making a fool out of myself if I pretend.
My Catholic friends can't understand how I am able to live without seeking Divine Providence, without the assurance that someone up there, someone omniscient, omnipotent, omni-everything is watching over me. They'll ask, "Saan ka pupunta pag namatay ka na? To heaven or hell?"
And I'll answer, "Wala na. Eh di patay kung patay. I'll cease to exist, in particle and in being. And that's it. No after-life adventures for me. And certainly no sojourns as a different person in the far future."
And they'll reply, "That's sad."
I do agree, of course. The prospects of life after death, of a paradise so perfect, or of a chance to once again walk the earth as a different person are so alluring, like promises of a presidential candidate, so alluring that you would have no choice but to believe, so beautiful that you would have no qualms about living in despair and poverty, because as soon as you die, those sweet promises would become reality. And that's what matters, right?
I envy those who believe. Not because they have those gifts, those promises of paradise after death for as long as they live blameless lives, and certainly not because they have someone to watch over them and account for their mistakes. I envy them because they have the strength of heart, their ardent faith, and their fearlessness of the unknown, for it is certainly not easy to put your life in the invisible hands of an invisible god.
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Image taken from http://zalandria.files.wordpress.com/2008/03/housemate_atheist.jpg
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