Days of general despair give rise to brotherhood, a sinse of togetherness, all of the flaying disappears, as if they never existed, and as the common despair grows, so grows the brotherhood and why can’t it be this way in normal days.
Do powers greater than us work on us and ascribe us with how to act in changing times and information. Brotherhood is not love, and therefore it disappears, and sometimes, in its place, in times of peace, inner-hostility comes, which in certain situations really endanger the existance of the nation. Is this the last war? This war which still has not ended, and no one knows what will be in the end. A war that no one wanted, not even the crazy side in it.
There were, and still are, within human history, outstanding men who influenced and affected the fate of many, if not directly, then indirectly. And in these days, the butcher of Bhagdad stands there, and in his craziness, allows himself to carry his people, and maybe the whole world, away, into the most dangerous whorlpool. What is the most amazing of all, is that an entire nation indeed follows with closed eyes, after his words past the threshold of doom.
Indeed, the disillusionment from stupidity to intelligence, passes over and maybe it is not possible in some cir circumstances, it is difficult for laymen of our time, to actually admit that the opportunity exists for craziness to rule and that hatred actually drives. And that sanity is indeed not clear in its essence, but everybody believes in the victory of good over evil.
The victory of intelligence. Even the same crazy people have this belief. But with them, it is a kind of illusion.
To carress a girl and to launch a missile that would hurt another girl. Sometimes, we find ourselves helpless in the face of truth, but when we see it all, the hope is born that says that indeed, intelligence is strong, that truth and justice stand by its side. That every war on the face of the Earth is the worst of all. That love must replace hate.
And who is he that can believe this, in the face of the terrible reality. To tie love and touch, and here we see a connection, in a very sensitive point, apparently. The touch (sex) is an expression of the connection between man and woman. And what of love between a mother and her son, between a man and his brothers, is all that is left barely affection. Is true love not love of man wherever he is? And if this love does exist somewhere, are we capable of saying that this is the love? And where do the borders cross between good and bad.
It is ironic that an entire history dealt with the queation whether man is good or evil, and maybe we, the same ones, the sane ones, must understand that it is sufficient for us to know of one righteous person, for example Abraham, our father, who was good, and this is a sign that evil, among all others, probably expresses sickness.
Humanity evolved, but where did it turn?
Going back is not possible, maybe also because there is nowhere to go back to, but it is never too late to discover new paths, to correct one’s ways, and to muster up the courage to pave new ways.
Hope can be seen on the horizon, but there are not too many people who can distinguish what exists beyod it. Who will train us for this wizdom, who will deliver us from the hardship?
Who will show us the way beyond the hope? Who will lead us to final peace? To what used to be the intention from the beginning. And maybe, it seemed for a moment, that there was a spark in the hope that we were getting close to a new horizon, a better world, a world of love without anxiety. A world without violence. A world in which evil remains only as a dim memory, that we were better off without it. Happy is the one who gains such a worls. A world that would indeed be as such.