Losing hope

We are born into this world as aliens, as creatures that have never seen, or experienced the beauties of nature, of science, and of the unlimited imagination of our peers.

Everything is new, everything is a mystery to us - how things with wheels move, how roses smell, and how the breeze combs through our hair, as our gentle mothers would do. The world is a fascinating place, full of adventure and spirit.

How is it that we miss the wars going on, the starvation of millions and rules of the government? Perhaps we were too self absorbed, with little care, as we always had someone to take care of us and hide the complexities of the world around us.

And then it hits us; that we spend our days in a small room with little ventilation, that we don't finger-paint and play all day long as we once did. That now that we are old (as we always wanted to be), that we wish to remain young, and we realise that our days are limited, that we all succumb to a most certain death.

 Perhaps religion is the way - to clear our woes and stress of the world, to help us feel that there is life after death, that there is a unique and good plan for each of us. But the path of religion is flawed, with murderous streaks in its history, abuse by the highest of priests and a foundation which only the gullible can whole heartedly believe. To know the truth it seems, is to be a passenger on a crashing plane where the heat of the flames no man, woman, or child is destined to escape.