[Carlos, a shepherd from the city of Colatina, eastern Brazil, goes so crazy as to write a letter to God, pouring out his frustrations over Love. I found it in his locker and am excited to put it out here for you.
People have always been curious to know his love story. This letter provides something to feed it. Please read and make it out for yourselves.]
Dear God,
Why do you ask us to love when the consequences are this dire?
You have no idea how much it hurts to know that you have lost yourself in saving someone who was yours only to fulfill their own selfish motives. It hurts to even think that I had been expending my energy to uplift someone who didn’t deserve me. The more I exploited myself, the weaker I became and the stronger their pivots got. People thought that is who I was and that is how they had been, always. Nobody knew that they had been using me to save themselves, under the pretext of love. Nobody wondered why they would show so much of unconditional love at such a tender age. Nobody thought why they would talk of me all the time when they could find someone else. The truth was that they knew I had what it would take to get themselves out of the clutches of their past, their Pain and their gripping thoughts that killed them every night. And here, I had been fool enough to believe that they Loved me unconditionally. They needed my time and my power and my good, loving words and my eyes and my lips and my hands. They needed my all. And so, they ended up consuming all of me. I kept wondering why I felt so messed up, so insecure of my abilities and so outcaste. I never thought it happened because my energy had been going in the wrong direction. And the manifestation was this powerless self.
They took bricks from my walls to rebuild their fundament. They cemented it well with my thick tears and skin. It took a good deal of time. And people thought we were together for it was our commitment. It was “unconditional love”. They licked me from everywhere. They wanted to save their life. And it was being difficult for me to handle two lives at once. I had my own troubles. I had to save myself first. I was drowning. My life had begun to slope downhill. But I didn’t care. I felt like it was my duty to heal them, since I had promised to love them till eternity. And I am someone who fulfills the promises he makes. So I finally chose one life—their life. I dismissed myself. Yes, I dismissed myself at last.
I was at their beck and call. They needed to talk to me, I was there. They needed to meet me, I was available. They needed more than a lover, I turned myself into one, bearing such a painful modification. I had forgotten my priorities. They ranked first on the list. My life was centered on them all the time. I didn’t care if I would waste my talents and live a whole unsatisfactory life. I didn’t care if I would change my identity. All I cared about was their happiness, their smile. I wanted them to be themselves, even if I had to be someone else for it. I had learned to love unconditionally. I didn’t care if my bloom would fade and be contaminated with their problems. I loved them and that was all I knew. And I loved surreptitiously while they made announcements to people feigning unconditional love. I loved like a man who loved a woman and thought of her as a flower. He would not want to pluck her. He would only adore her like something he would fondle with his little finger and thumb, smell and keep beautiful photographs of.
And they grew. They grew out of pain. The heavy rain that their past showered on them finally bore fruits. For I came up as the sun. They flourished. They blossomed. And they smiled. Yes, they smiled. The bad days were over until the sun rendered them with its warmth. And they turned adorable with beautiful flowers over their head.
And here, I withered. I withered with pain—their pain. Jaded, I carried their past on my shoulders. I carried their troubles and their tears. I was polluted. I enjoyed nothing. I looked like a hyena that had been injured in a fight with ten lions. Stinky, beaten-up and bruised. People thought that was me. People thought that was them. They thrived while I turned into ruins. They thrived because of me and I was into ruins… because of me.
The birds chirp when the sun comes up after heavy rain. So did they.
I never told anyone how selfless I had been all this while. People thought it was they who loved “unconditionally”. ‘That guy, who doesn’t deserve such “deep” love, is enjoying them. Just look at that fucktard. Must have been a tremendous stroke of luck he found them.’ They thought. Nobody knew I had been more selfless than the selflessness of a thousand gods put together. The difference being, I never broadcast it. I didn’t care what the world thought. I just loved. Without conditions. Without measures.
They broadcast their fake virtues and my fake vices. They wanted the world’s acknowledgement. They had never experienced being a good human. But they wanted to be identified as one. They wanted to be appreciated as a good person without being one. It was too difficult for them. So they acted well enough to get it.
And they became chirpy, cheerful while I turned dizzy, dreadful. The world liked them. They vibrated well now. My hard work had borne results for them. And here, my vibes had gone well polluted. Nobody knew it was the other way round before they had dragged me into their life.
They didn’t like accepting faults. They wanted to be called perfect. They wanted to be regarded a goddess. So they feigned it well. They got everything without having to be anything. They were a good artist, a good actor and the world applauded them for it. They got what they wanted.
I still hate myself for being a sensible human. I hate saying that I am fighting the pain I never deserved. I was a happy-go-lucky guy, always, until they came around. I never thought I would have to be like this. I never thought I would have to fight to find interests in my good pursuits. I never thought I would turn this awkward socially. And it is still very difficult to believe what I have become. But the human inside still remains, despite all the troubles it brought in the first place.
I dare not share my pain—I don’t know why. It is just that I don’t think I have to be this cheap, even though that will show the cheapness of those who have been telling every other person they meet how good they are, faking virtues, just in order to hide their brutal realities from the world. They want to be called good without being so. And I am completely okay with this. Those who are not sure about themselves go on seeking the world’s approval. The sure ones let it all go.
I still have kept it only to myself. I still have hidden how I was tortured all along. I still don’t care what people think about it. I have no interest in gaining people’s sympathy or empathy. I know these things don’t last. I have no interest in telling people what they have done to me. And I believe they are quiet about it too. They know if they tell people the truth, they will turn against them. And they wouldn’t like it to happen. Since their life lies in people’s approval. Nothing else satisfies them.
They are those who show their faux divinity up front and keep the witch inside hidden. They don’t understand the meaning of love. Because they never have loved anyone in their whole fucking life. For them, relationships are mere transactions where you get some benefit in the end. And when they get it, they kick them out mercilessly. Their love shifts from person to person, depending on their needs. They don’t care about others’ feelings. Because they themselves have none. They treat people as means to achieve their selfish ends. If you look closely, you will find how they keep shifting from one person to another as per their needs. And when they have picked what they need off them, they bid goodbyes, not worrying a darn about their tears and pain. They don’t care what happens to them and they have no shame about how they gave them the pain they didn’t deserve in the first place. Maybe it is because they believe since they were once given the pain they didn’t deserve, they must take the revenge from others. But that again is sheer cowardice. If by doing this, they think they are strong, I pity them from the core of my being.
I am quiet because I want to know how far cruelty can reach. I want to know if real virtues have a place in this world. I want to see who is helped by the Providence—the true humans who ever have loved without conditions or those offsprings of Satan who never could learn how to love without snatching some benefit in return. And I will keep my mouth shut until the truth manifests itself. I know I have the strength to be patient for the judgment. I am not hungry for people’s approval and sympathy.
Now I am teaching people to learn from it. I want them to save their energy and spend it wisely. They must never waste it. They should never take themselves for granted. For then, so does the world. I want them to know that they are defined by what they expend their energy on.
Oh God! Thank you for all that you have taught me. I don’t know if you exist but I hope you are kind enough to bestow me with what I deserve, someday.
I have seen more than enough of the world. Now, I am heading back home. It’s decided.
With love,
Carlos
People have always been curious to know his love story. This letter provides something to feed it. Please read and make it out for yourselves.]
Dear God,
Why do you ask us to love when the consequences are this dire?
You have no idea how much it hurts to know that you have lost yourself in saving someone who was yours only to fulfill their own selfish motives. It hurts to even think that I had been expending my energy to uplift someone who didn’t deserve me. The more I exploited myself, the weaker I became and the stronger their pivots got. People thought that is who I was and that is how they had been, always. Nobody knew that they had been using me to save themselves, under the pretext of love. Nobody wondered why they would show so much of unconditional love at such a tender age. Nobody thought why they would talk of me all the time when they could find someone else. The truth was that they knew I had what it would take to get themselves out of the clutches of their past, their Pain and their gripping thoughts that killed them every night. And here, I had been fool enough to believe that they Loved me unconditionally. They needed my time and my power and my good, loving words and my eyes and my lips and my hands. They needed my all. And so, they ended up consuming all of me. I kept wondering why I felt so messed up, so insecure of my abilities and so outcaste. I never thought it happened because my energy had been going in the wrong direction. And the manifestation was this powerless self.
They took bricks from my walls to rebuild their fundament. They cemented it well with my thick tears and skin. It took a good deal of time. And people thought we were together for it was our commitment. It was “unconditional love”. They licked me from everywhere. They wanted to save their life. And it was being difficult for me to handle two lives at once. I had my own troubles. I had to save myself first. I was drowning. My life had begun to slope downhill. But I didn’t care. I felt like it was my duty to heal them, since I had promised to love them till eternity. And I am someone who fulfills the promises he makes. So I finally chose one life—their life. I dismissed myself. Yes, I dismissed myself at last.
I was at their beck and call. They needed to talk to me, I was there. They needed to meet me, I was available. They needed more than a lover, I turned myself into one, bearing such a painful modification. I had forgotten my priorities. They ranked first on the list. My life was centered on them all the time. I didn’t care if I would waste my talents and live a whole unsatisfactory life. I didn’t care if I would change my identity. All I cared about was their happiness, their smile. I wanted them to be themselves, even if I had to be someone else for it. I had learned to love unconditionally. I didn’t care if my bloom would fade and be contaminated with their problems. I loved them and that was all I knew. And I loved surreptitiously while they made announcements to people feigning unconditional love. I loved like a man who loved a woman and thought of her as a flower. He would not want to pluck her. He would only adore her like something he would fondle with his little finger and thumb, smell and keep beautiful photographs of.
And they grew. They grew out of pain. The heavy rain that their past showered on them finally bore fruits. For I came up as the sun. They flourished. They blossomed. And they smiled. Yes, they smiled. The bad days were over until the sun rendered them with its warmth. And they turned adorable with beautiful flowers over their head.
And here, I withered. I withered with pain—their pain. Jaded, I carried their past on my shoulders. I carried their troubles and their tears. I was polluted. I enjoyed nothing. I looked like a hyena that had been injured in a fight with ten lions. Stinky, beaten-up and bruised. People thought that was me. People thought that was them. They thrived while I turned into ruins. They thrived because of me and I was into ruins… because of me.
The birds chirp when the sun comes up after heavy rain. So did they.
I never told anyone how selfless I had been all this while. People thought it was they who loved “unconditionally”. ‘That guy, who doesn’t deserve such “deep” love, is enjoying them. Just look at that fucktard. Must have been a tremendous stroke of luck he found them.’ They thought. Nobody knew I had been more selfless than the selflessness of a thousand gods put together. The difference being, I never broadcast it. I didn’t care what the world thought. I just loved. Without conditions. Without measures.
They broadcast their fake virtues and my fake vices. They wanted the world’s acknowledgement. They had never experienced being a good human. But they wanted to be identified as one. They wanted to be appreciated as a good person without being one. It was too difficult for them. So they acted well enough to get it.
And they became chirpy, cheerful while I turned dizzy, dreadful. The world liked them. They vibrated well now. My hard work had borne results for them. And here, my vibes had gone well polluted. Nobody knew it was the other way round before they had dragged me into their life.
They didn’t like accepting faults. They wanted to be called perfect. They wanted to be regarded a goddess. So they feigned it well. They got everything without having to be anything. They were a good artist, a good actor and the world applauded them for it. They got what they wanted.
I still hate myself for being a sensible human. I hate saying that I am fighting the pain I never deserved. I was a happy-go-lucky guy, always, until they came around. I never thought I would have to be like this. I never thought I would have to fight to find interests in my good pursuits. I never thought I would turn this awkward socially. And it is still very difficult to believe what I have become. But the human inside still remains, despite all the troubles it brought in the first place.
I dare not share my pain—I don’t know why. It is just that I don’t think I have to be this cheap, even though that will show the cheapness of those who have been telling every other person they meet how good they are, faking virtues, just in order to hide their brutal realities from the world. They want to be called good without being so. And I am completely okay with this. Those who are not sure about themselves go on seeking the world’s approval. The sure ones let it all go.
I still have kept it only to myself. I still have hidden how I was tortured all along. I still don’t care what people think about it. I have no interest in gaining people’s sympathy or empathy. I know these things don’t last. I have no interest in telling people what they have done to me. And I believe they are quiet about it too. They know if they tell people the truth, they will turn against them. And they wouldn’t like it to happen. Since their life lies in people’s approval. Nothing else satisfies them.
They are those who show their faux divinity up front and keep the witch inside hidden. They don’t understand the meaning of love. Because they never have loved anyone in their whole fucking life. For them, relationships are mere transactions where you get some benefit in the end. And when they get it, they kick them out mercilessly. Their love shifts from person to person, depending on their needs. They don’t care about others’ feelings. Because they themselves have none. They treat people as means to achieve their selfish ends. If you look closely, you will find how they keep shifting from one person to another as per their needs. And when they have picked what they need off them, they bid goodbyes, not worrying a darn about their tears and pain. They don’t care what happens to them and they have no shame about how they gave them the pain they didn’t deserve in the first place. Maybe it is because they believe since they were once given the pain they didn’t deserve, they must take the revenge from others. But that again is sheer cowardice. If by doing this, they think they are strong, I pity them from the core of my being.
I am quiet because I want to know how far cruelty can reach. I want to know if real virtues have a place in this world. I want to see who is helped by the Providence—the true humans who ever have loved without conditions or those offsprings of Satan who never could learn how to love without snatching some benefit in return. And I will keep my mouth shut until the truth manifests itself. I know I have the strength to be patient for the judgment. I am not hungry for people’s approval and sympathy.
Now I am teaching people to learn from it. I want them to save their energy and spend it wisely. They must never waste it. They should never take themselves for granted. For then, so does the world. I want them to know that they are defined by what they expend their energy on.
Oh God! Thank you for all that you have taught me. I don’t know if you exist but I hope you are kind enough to bestow me with what I deserve, someday.
I have seen more than enough of the world. Now, I am heading back home. It’s decided.
With love,
Carlos
