Hands Washed?

 
Has a man been betrayed?  Or has the crowd a right to be allowed to choose who will sate their thirst for killing?  Will those in the crowd then be satisfied? How will that choice be made, as in, what standard is used.  By who's decisions will the one chosen for sacrifice and death be found?  Can the subject be pulled from the crowd?  Must the subject be a criminal?  Must he be from the crowd or can he be a visitor or foreigner?

I need to know, you know?  I don't want to visit and be pulled from the crowd, whipped, flailed and made to carry a cross, and worse, find myself being nailed to it.  I am not suggesting that I am worthy, I am not worthy in any way shape or form.  I am simply saying, I am afraid to go places where I might be picked out of a crowd and allowed to suffer, and die.  And I am while I am a brave man I am not reckless with the life I have.
 
“Mostly, I could tell, I made him feel uncomfortable. He didn't understand me, and he was sort of holding it against me. I felt the urge to reassure him that I was like everybody else, just like everybody else. But really there wasn't much point, and I gave up the idea out of laziness.”

Albert Camus, L'Étranger

If you are a person who has found himself crushed in life then perhaps your failings do not matter.  I failed many times in this life, I have, but I despise every single failing.  If I were to focus upon my failures, though, I'd go mad.  The reason for this is my life has one single play.  I do not get a rewind, a start over,


I have taken upon myself a quest, and I do not expect others to join me.  But I know that they think that I am a fool.  So perhaps I am.

“They call themselves believers and thereby signify that they are pilgrims, strangers and aliens in the world. Indeed, a staff in the hand does not identify a pilgrim as definitely as calling oneself a believer publicly testifies that one is on a journey, because faith simply means: What I am seeking is not here, and for that very reason I believe it. Faith expressly signifies the deep, strong, blessed restlessness that drives the believer so that he cannot settle down at rest in this world, and therefore the person who has settled down completely at rest has also ceased to be a believer, because a believer cannot sit still as one sits with a pilgrim's staff in one's hand – a believer travels forward”

Søren Kierkegaard












“I learned that the possessions most esteemed by your fellow-creatures were, high and unsullied descent united with riches. A man might be respected with only one of these acquisitions; but without either he was considered, except in very rare instances, as a vagabond and slave, doomed to waste his powers for the profit of the chosen few. And what was I? Of my creation and creator I was absolutely ignorant; but I knew that I possessed no money, no friends, no kind of property. I was, besides, endowed with a figure hideously deformed and loathsome; I was not even of the same nature as man. I was more agile than they, and could subsist upon coarser diet; I bore the extremes of heat and cold with less injury to my frame; my stature far exceeded their's. When I looked around, I saw and heard of none like me. Was I then a monster, a blot upon the earth, from which all men fled, and whom all men disowned?”

― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein, or the Modern Prometheus

Should I have lived my existence and have spent it upon foolishness, I will have wasted the gift of life.








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