The ugly ways of God, those intermingled in the scheme of this world makes this whole story quite uncalled for. For life exists, and has very many justifications for the way it is, we put up. This consciousness in human beings, however, when looks at itself, finds the concept of creation/ a start/a point so battered and caressed and what is ongoing so indulging that the inquiry, whenever, becomes a redundant venture.
And then when we utter about attainment of truth, even when all of them add up to one big lie, its only an irony . Its mostly love that still makes you feel that earth is perhaps a justified ball, however this all must stop for a while, explain itself and then itch ahead.
In that one can only conjure what is known, and by the logics learnt here, everything is in error, everything unaccounted for. The logic created within is applied outwards, to higher and above, for one who created LOGIC is also recognised by only LOGIC. This absurdity attributes an identity to the creator.
Uncertainty commands mammoth respect for what is incomprehensible is as much unconquerable. So after all what humans do conquer, the residue becomes the lame concept of God. What provokes people to believe and so much into it that God is only good is perhaps, their only anticipation that what shall happen to them should be only good. Ideas for the self carve the concept of God and that he is only likeable; and that all of it is a fight to prevent bad things, when it may be the otherwise, that all happiness is only to invite the black. This becomes rather understandable in light of the ultimate event of death, which is but only a manifestation of black.
