So I’m going to make up my own religion.
But I’m going to pretend it’s real, because you can’t prove that I made it up. That’s generally where I fold the page in the metaphorical book of religion. Anything can be real or fake, and you’ll never know which it is.
I’ve always been a good liar, anyway. Not that it matters. I’m sure majority of preachers don’t even know that they’re lying. Have you ever told a lie so many times that you began to believe it? So have I.
My religion won’t be based upon theoretical materialism by dogmatic, nihilistic mathematicians and magicians. My religion won’t craft mass confusion and chaos, leading to death and destruction and a hatred so pure it could stop the planet from orbiting the sun - ironically, as religion is (in my opinion) ever-so-simply just a parody of the worship of the sun itself.
My religion will be simple. There will be no leaders. There will be no commandments, no laws, no restrictions. There will be no Gods, and no Beasts, because we will understand that they are merely physically manifested forms of energy. We will understand that we hold the concept of God and Beast within us, and within everything that we see, because everything is bittersweet. There will be no labyrinth of sin, no Heaven or Hell, no exclusive, ethereal chamber for those who have kissed the asses of thank-you based God's, no diabolical abyss fuelled with the raging fire of those who have rebelled. There will only be Nowhere.
We will belong to Nowhere, and we will be Nobody, and we will own Nothing. If we belong to Nowhere we can’t fight about where we came from and where we live. If we are nobody, we can’t fight about who is in charge and who was where first. If we own nothing, we can’t fight about possession of tangible things or people.
I think I will call my cult - uh, I mean religion - Nowhereism.
Do you want to join?
All you have to do is sacrifice your ego.
A small price, really.