God as a Platform (Home) of Souls

God does not exist - never actually did.

God is a Platform where poor lost souls must climb back up to after having had  a great fall, like Humpty Dumpty had from the wall in the story of Alice’s journey in Wonderland.

Once we were all comfortably and lazily  dozing on a huge Platform, we were slighly crampted but too comfy to do anything about it. It was pure unconscious bliss for us all. And one day, out of the blue, our firm Platform, we called Home, decided to have some fun and so shook Itself having us fall off into deep nothingness. The Platform quickly realized we have nothing to fall onto and so immediately visioned a back hole for  us all to fall into. This is how our (seemingly endless) jouney back Home began - with many twists and turns because of the magnetic pull of the dark holewe fell into. Nevetheless, each time we tried, we got little more, little further out, little closer to the Platform we fell of from.

The Platform does nothing druing our jouney back besides being constatly there calling us Home. It is there, fixed and careless, waiting for its parts to end their journey and find their way back, onto the Platform, where they belong.

And the Platform senses nothing, none of the painful journey Home. It virtually smiles all the time (though time does not exist for It either), floating in bliss, covert in joy and complete oblivion of anything out of Itself. And the dark hole, though created with a purpose by the Platform, It still oblivious of it.

When the little Souls gets close enough to the Platform and realizes that the Platform does nothing to pull him up in support of his efforts of final return, it gets helplessly angry and disappointed realizing, that the It is not concerned at all by his return. It is always happy, either way, patiently waiting and smiling - knowing. So the Soul understands its lonley efforts and starts slowly sliding backwards in dispair.

The Platform smiles nevertheless, sees only the beauty of Its surroundings and has great hope for Its own and passes all responsibility along with free-will back to the little Soul who has nothing left now but his own doom to hold onto. He is neither in the hole nor at Home, back on the comfy Platform. He is pending in the void, helpless. He is wating for a new moment to come when he feels strong and capable enough, having gathered enough faith to climb again, try once more.

English, Lencsék/Mornin'Thoughts | RSS 2.0 | Respond | Trackback |