Three reasons why you need to do well at school

1jif33clo0lainznvugoxuw

*puts on a mask*

Money!

You don’t go to school to get knowledge. You go there so that it is easier for you to find jobs! Future employers demand high grades. They genuinely believe that grade accurately indicates our skills and intelligence. They don’t know high grades can be gained by sucking up to the incompetent teachers and cheating. More naive than those sheltered religious children. Wait, I think there is nothing wrong with cheating. As I said, it is all about the grades. It is not wrong if you don’t get caught, right? Right? Right?

Superficial status!

Schools make us smarter…..is what another naive thing people believe. It doesn’t matter how imbecile you are. A degree would save you jeers from those assholes whose minds are shallower than kiddies’ pool for ants. You have care about what they think. If the intense fear starts sipping in, you are doing it right.

Learn disciplines that give you the social prestige, not the ones you love. People always look up to doctors and see them as heroes, despite the rampant malpractice and how some of them only care about the money and status. I don’t care if learning things you are not passionate about them makes you dead inside. Your psychological welfare is of no importance.

The beautiful brain-washing!
Schools can teach us how to be decent human beings…which is how the majority live their lives. Being a minority means you are an insult to human decency. Do not make your own thoughts. Just accept what most people believe! Do you want to be suffer people’s intolerance? No, right? Then, pander to their intolerance! Schools can guide us how to do that. The teachers can shame us for simply disagreeing with. They even can punish us for it!It may seem horrifying to experience. But, trust me, you would feel like a new person. As an adult, your fantastically desentisised self would witness the “teaching” process apathetically. That, I think, is the peak of your personal success.

*takes off the mask*

The Undesired Ones 3 (end)

First published on Medium.com on August 8, 2016.

(short fiction #4)

It’s been seven years since that conversation. Yes, seven. As you expected, our relationships were icy for that long. I didn’t try to make a second apology as I am a massive prick. We only talked when I lent them my stuffs and I borrowed theirs. But, that was it. My bedroom became so cold, icicles were formed. Despite that, they still managed to make me feel happy.

One day, I visited my favourite park with them. It was a seaside park, located not far from my house; it only took 30 minutes by foot (for me, that’s not far). Do not picture it as a pleasant park as it wasn’t. There weren’t enough grass. There were no flowers. There were old, abandoned buildings; they looked like they were built in the 1980’s. It was really hot even on cloudy days (it never went below 30 degrees celsius). When rain came, it had to be accompanied by a storm. But I still loved it.

It was really quiet. Even though I was never completely alone (when my friends didn’t want to go with me), it was never crowded; perfect for me to unwind. On hot days, I could stay under the trees which were still surprisingly healthy despite the poor park management. On rainy days, I could stay under the gazebos. The abandoned buildings were mentally stimulated; I often imagined what I would do if I purchase them as their architectural styles were beautiful. Okay, enough with the irrelevant info.

My friends visited the park for similar reasons. Because of that incident, I became more reserved every time I went out of the house with them. It was a really hot day so we preferred to stay under the shades. It was very relaxing, physically and mentally. But that relaxation didn’t last long because of an unwanted person.

“Guys, that is Anto over there.” I pointed to a small crowd.

He was playing soccer with his friends (I didn’t count how many they were). He wore a pair of sport shorts. He was naked from waist up. His bare torso really caught my attention. It had really well-scuplted solid muscles resulted from intense regular exercises. His perfectly-tanned skin was glistening with sweat which reminded me of the guys in ‘cheap’ films; it felt so unreal! He was already attractive when I saw him years ago with those loose clothing. Then, this! I looked at his friends. Even though they did not have good-looking faces, their bodies were equally athletic. It became more unreal! If there were spectators, I am sure they would enjoy the players more than the sport itself. On a glimpse, I saw that both Wan and Kama were smiling; I don’t think they smiled simply because they were “happy”. Then, I realised something: Anto and his friends had muscles!

What would happen if they saw me with the ‘undesired’ ones? I was just a fat prick, they were all athletic. Anto said he was in the military. Judging from the haircut of some of his friends, they may be military men as well. They could easily turn me to a pile of flesh and bones. Immediately, I started walking home even though I just arrived at the park. My friends looked disappointed. But, they expected this shameful behaviour of mine. They followed me anyway.

“It’s stupid of you for fearing us.” Rita said suddenly after five minutes.

I stopped walking. I turned to them.

“Did you know what we just saw?”

“Well, we just saw Anto and his friends.”

“We are not talking about him and his gang.” Wan said calmly. I became more confused.

“There were people that you weren’t able to see.” Kama added.

I just stared at them.

“Every single one of those people have ‘undesired’ friends.” Wan made the inverted comma gesture when he said the word “undesired”.

I didn’t know how to react.

“In fact, every single one of them have more than four.” Rati said. “Some of them only had male friends, some only had female ones, some had both. By the way, which one was Anto?”

“He was the one with grey shorts.”

“Really? He had the most number of ‘undesired’ friends.” Rati revealed. I was genuinely shocked.

“All of them were males.” Kama said. “It was a right decision for you to leave Anto and his friends.”

“Why?”

“Their ‘undesired’ friends are really undesirable.” Wan answered. “Actually, undesirable is an understatement. They emitted really dark auras. I would be surprised if they haven’t done anything horrific.”

“What kind of horrific things?”

“The things he showed you years ago.” Rati answered.

I didn’t react at all. I stayed silent for about a minute. I didn’t dare to make any eye contacts. Then, I proceeded to walk home. Should I be surprised that Anto have more undesired friends than me? Not only that, they were actually undesirable! He was a beautifully-masked man with a rotten core.

It was almost bedtime. Just when I was about to get on the bed, I stood frozen. My lack of movement confused them.

“Andy, what’s wrong?” Wan asked.

I stayed silent. I turned to face them. I made a gesture telling them to hop on the bed with me. They had been sleeping on the floor throughout this whole time; they were physically tough.

Now they were the ones who stood frozen.

“Please.” I sounded sadder than I wanted to.

For the first time in years, they gave me warm, genuine smiles. They hopped on the bed with me. One of them turned off the bedside lamp. We cuddled tightly.

“Guys, I am….”. They interrupted me with gentle shush. A hand was gently stroking my hair. The room suddenly became warm again. But that is nothing compared to the warmth emited by friends. It had been missing all these years.

I have been forgiven.

The Undesired Ones 2

First published on Medium.com on August 8, 2016.

(short fiction #3)

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon. In my hometown, it was always blazingly hot on sunny days. Even though I was allowed to use the cooler, I didn’t want to. I started to find comfort in the heat. There were no home works. It would be a perfect day to unwind. But, after what I witnessed in the auditorium the day before, it was hard to.

My so-called “undesired” friends were with me in my bedroom. Rati was reading a book about Chrisye, one of our favourite musicians. Kama had earphones on his ears; I don’t know what he was listening to. Wan was laying on the floor, daydreaming. I just realised that they grew up to be really attractive youngsters; if they are visible to other people, I am sure they would attract many desiring and lustful eyes. They looked better than those celebrities, who tended to look plastic.

“What’s wrong, An?” Wan suddenly asked. He sounded concerned.

“Nothing”. I didn’t dare to stare at his eyes and preferred to look out of my window.

“Are you sure”

“Aye.” I still didn’t dare to look at him. I could sense that he didn’t believe me.

“Don’t lie to me.” See?

“I don’t.” I turned to stare at him. I was getting annoyed. Kama and Rati stopped what they were doing, sensing the tension.

“Well, you have been acting strangely since you got home from school yesterday.” Rati added. “You were very quiet.”

“I am a quiet person.”

“Not with us.” Kama said suspiciously. “With us, you are always very talkative.”

I stayed silent.

“Come on, Andy.” Wan pleaded. “You always share your most inner thoughts to us.”

They all stared at me intensely. I just realised how intimidating their eyes could be. It looked they were able to see one’s soul.

“Okay, then. I will tell you what bothers my mind.” I didn’t remember exactly how I recalled the auditorium ‘incident’. But I remember exactly how they reacted: gradually, their facial expressions showed profound disappointment before they quickly switch to expression of sadness.

“And you just believe him?” Rati asked. Her voice was laced with sadness and something else that I couldn’t fathom. Anger?

I didn’t dare to answer.

“Answer me.”

I stayed muted.

“Andy, answer her question.” Kama pressured.

No words from my lips.

“Andy…” That one word from Wan was enough to give me chills.

I shut my lips tight for what felt like hours. Then, I relented.

“Okay okay! Yes, I believe every single word he said!”

They couldn’t believe the words that escaped thought my lips.

“He was very convincing. He gave me strong evidences! I am sorry but…..”. Kama cut me off.

“Don’t you dare say you are sorry!” Kama hissed.

Wan added, “Typical Andy. We always knew that your mind is easily molded by other people. But we didn’t expect that bloody trait of yours would lead to this. You are twelve! You should be better than this!” Every single word pierced my chest like icy knife.

Rati concluded the conversations, “If you really know us, you would know that we never cause any harms to you. In fact, we are the ones who have been protecting you. We are even more protective of you than your own family! The fact that you believe that man’s words easily, it’s just……”. Rita didn’t finish her sentence. She didn’t need to.

My room became really cold despite the weather. It stayed that way for many years. We stayed silence throughout the day. Just before bedtime, someone-I don’t remember who-said this, “Like it or not, we will always live here. We don’t have anywhere to go. Your room is our only home.” I nodded without turning my head.

The cold was unbearable for me. But it was nothing compared to the coldness emitted by my friends. What have I done?

The Undesired Ones 1

First published on Medium.com on August 8, 2016.

(short fiction #2)

I have three special best friends. My relationship with them are special because it still strong as steel to these days. Unsurprisingly, there were some turbulences. Let me summarise the whole story:

The first ones I met were Wan and Rati. They are twins. Wan’s full name is Puspawan but he preferred to be called Wan for short; he thought Puspa sounded girly. Rati’s full name is, well, Rati; she doesn’t care if we call her either Rat, Ti or both. I don’t remember exactly but I think we met when we were five. We instantly became good friends! Then, years later, I met Kama. He easily joined our small circle of friendship.

Their presence always bring contentedness to my life every single time. It is not the best thing I have experienced and they know that. But, the feeling is strong enough to make me fly to cloud nine. I didn’t know why but I was afraid to share it with other people, including my mom. Especially my mom. One day, not long after after my twelfth birthday, I discovered the reason.

I was at my school assembly which always held in the big auditorium. I knew what they were going to say would be considered important as they rarely did assemblies. I could see all of the teachers sitting at the front row. A woman in her fifties entered the stage. Her presence was enough to make even the school hooligans silent. She tested her microphone before she greeted her audience.

“Peace be upon you,” the school principal greeted.

“And on you be peace,” the whole auditorium replied.

“Today, we will discuss something that should be talked about more often. They have entered our lives and we recklessly let them in. What many of us don’t know is the damages they cause. How many of you have heard of ‘The Undesired Ones’?”

Some students raised their hands. I didn’t.

“To speeds things up, I shall introduce to our special guest. He is the deputy chairman of the ‘Free Lives For The Youths’. The organisation have been dealing the undesired ones for five years and they have received multiple awards from various religious groups. Now, let us welcome Mr. Antonius Ismail!”

The audience applauded politely as a smiling man in his early twenties entered the stage. He was wearing a long-sleeved brown batik shirt and a pair of grey suit pants, each was a bit ovesized. His fashion didn’t fit his good-look which caused small but audible flirtatious giggles among the female students. His confidence was so superficial, he looked more full of himself rather than confident.

“Greetings, everyone.” He spoke with a very flat, Jakartan accent.

“Greetings.”

“I would to thank Principal Citra for inviting me to this school.” From my seat, I could see the principal, who was already seated in the front row, nodded. He continued, “as the principal has told you, I am from the ‘Free Lives For The Youths’ organisation. We are advocating for life free of the undesired ones.”

Well, fucking duh!

“My name is Antonius Ismail. You can call me Mr. Anto.”

I am not sure what happened next. But I didn’t remember what he said; he made a really long monologue. I have a really poor memory. Trying to tell you my stories is very difficult. I am not sure if I even told them accurately or not. The only thing I remember that he had military background. One thing for sure is I remember exactly the things he showed after he finished his babbles. They are not the things one can easily forget.

“Don’t believe me? Okay, I will show you the truth.” At that moment, the giant projection screens behind him lit up. Each show a picture that I immediately assumed to be the organisation’s logo. Frankly, I still don’t know what it was supposed to be: it looked like a plus symbol made out of Arabic calligraphy circled by extremely tiny stars placed on a green background. Sorry, I was distracted. Irrelevant info. Anyway, I just realised that he was holding a slide show remote control. He pressed a button and the nightmare began.

The screen shows a video of a woman’s head. I didn’t know what happened to her! Her face was covered with huge scabs. But, unlike normal scabs, the ones on her face seem to be alive; it looked like under each scab, there were creatures trying to escape. Somehow, Mr. Anto was able to read my mind.

“There were maggots beneath her skin. In worse cases, the maggots got out and exploded the faces.” Some students squirmed uncomfortably. I heard some of them yelping. He pressed the button again.

A video of a man’s head appears. Even though he looked normal, he whimpered painfully. Then, the camera focused on his body. Again, I am not sure what happened. It seemed that the skin of his body was made out of wax and got melted halfway through. More yelping from the students.

Mr. Anto pressed the button again.

Everyone in the auditorium screamed. Another video of a person’s head appears. But I didn’t know if it was a he or she. It looked someone -or something- ripped almost the entire flesh, leaving nothing but blood-covered skull with two eyeballs still attached; they were staring to our souls. Some students started throwing up, the teachers quickly aided them. Thank God I didn’t sit close to them.

He pressed the button again.

A video of a crying baby appeared. The whole body was covered in greenish, scaly skins that may break every time. But the crying was much more haunting; it expressed darkness that sounds much worse than death. Some students started to cry as well.

He pressed the button for the last time. The organisation’s logo appeared once more.

“Now you see why you should fear the undesired ones. They may act like your friends and you fall for that. Don’t! They are Devil’s babies! They are condemned by God for contravening His words, they make the unnatural natural!”

The auditorium went silent.

“But fear not. Despite their charms, they are very easy to recognise.”

I paid attention this time.

“First , they only appear to you; they will hide when other people, especially your parents, are in sight. They are good in hiding. Second, they are very intimate with you; they are trying to convince you that they are a part of you. Third, which is the most important, their presence give you intense positive feeling that you are unwilling to share with people. That feeling is like a drug, it may makes you happy right now but it will destroy your body and soul. So, with the principal’s assistance……”

I stopped paying attention again. I felt like I was slapped in the face. I couldn’t believe that I was bertrayed people I trusted! Wan, Rati and Kama were never seen by other people but me! Every time my mom knocked on my bedroom, they always disappeared! I was always intimate with them? How intimate? Intimate enough to let me share my bed with them every night! I even let them see me naked! But the worse part is they did give me intense happy feeling that I always kept private! So, I came to a heartbreaking conclusion:

Wan, Rati and Kama are the undesired ones.

Habitual Ire

First published on Medium.com on August 8, 2016.

(short fiction #1)

“Why, Andy? Why?”. My mom couldn’t fathom what she had just discovered. Demons of sadness and anger were devouring her soul at the same time. I had done something really terrible. Just another day with me.

“For twenty years, I had to raise a devilish son LIKE YOU!”. Her howling was so intense, even those demons ran away, searching for a more manageable victim. She slapped me.

“Why did you do this to me?”. I could barely hear her words with my face hurting. My eyes got teary.

“HEY! You don’t have the right to cry! I should be the one who cry, you spoiled pig!”. She pushed me to the ground and proceeded to stomp me with her feet. Her body became really hot every time she was angry. As a result, my torso was covered with burns. My T-shirt was singed. I started to get use to the pain.

“STAND UP!”. I did and she slapped me again. “You are more priviliged than most kids! You are even more priviliged than your sister! I let you to choose any schools you wanted! I gave you nice foods which made you fat! I gave you an expensive computer! I took you to nice holidays! I never forced you to be a top student! I tolerated every single one of your sins! Yet, this is the reward I get from you! Why, Dan? Why?”.

I stood silent.

“ANSWER ME, YOU AUTISTIC PIECE OF SHIT!”. Her screaming cracked the living room mirror.

“I….I…..”, I stuttered.

“SPEAK CLEARLY! WHY DON’T YOU CURE YOUR STAMMERING?” This time, her screaming detonated the television set.

“I…I don’t know.”

“YOU DON’T KNOW?” She punched me in the face. I was surprised that my nose didn’t bleed.

As expected, I spent the whole night listening to her repeating the same sentences over and over again. That’s her. If there is nothing to talk about, just repeat the something that has been said before. Her so-called guardian angels hated me. Every time I angered her, they made sure the time slowed down for me; a minute literally felt like a day. It was very physically and mentally exhausting.

By midnight, she dismissed me to my room. She told me to get some introspection about my action. She said she wanted a solution for my misdemeanor ready in the morning. When I was out of her sight, I quickly paced to my room. I was relieved to be inside, the place where I had complete control of everything. I changed to a fresh T-shirt and proceeded to use my laptop for internet, my main source of entertainment. Knowing what to expect, I decided to look at the mirror.

My head and a chunk of chest were missing. They always were every time I brought anger, sadness or both to someone else; they were devoured by the demon who constantly followed me (obviously, they would grow back in the morning). I knew why he always did it. I may said sorry. But, I knew I would torment my mom over and over again. The worse part was she knew that as well and she would still give me those luxuries. I let the demon grew. Oh, what a wonderful soul I have.

How to deal with Muslims!

1mjntsyvj_sjtlysowv8btq

First published on Medium.com on August 1, 2016.

*Puts on a mask*

Tired of dealing with those pesky Muslims messing with our lives? Tired of them trampling with westernism, the only valid and flawless way of life? Tired of them trying to be seen as humans? Well, I have got the solution just for you. It is so easy, it only has two steps! It is a simple-minded solution for simple-minded people. Now, let’s get started!

Accept the fact that they are deceptive liars! All of them!

Yes, yes. I know there are over a billion of them around the world. In fact, it is the perfect disguise! Who would have thought that an extremely large number of people can hide a horrendeous secret: a global Islamic domination? Intelligent people. I mean, just think about it! What kind of idiots who demand evidences to support stereotypes and conspiracy theories? True intelligence does not make us doubt, it makes us believe.

(well, doubt is also good..only being used against “positive” claims about Satans. Believe is good…but only when used for “truthful” negative stories about them. So, I hope you get my point)

The Muslims have a concept called Taqiyya. Essentially, it is the idea that Muslims can lie about how not all Muslims are extremists and what Islam really is (I don’t believe a religion’s teachings can have multiple interpretations; I agree with ISIS and Al-Qaeda about what true Islam should be). But, there will be unbelievably blind people who say other. They would spew lies like how not every Muslim knows what Taqiyya is and how it is an exclusively Shia concept that allows Shia Muslims hiding their faith to avoid prosecution from Sunnis. May I say bullshit? Don’t you dare believe otherwise! Those Muslims are doing Taqiyya! Also, Muslims killing Muslims? Another bullshit! Muslims only kill non-Muslims! Those Muslim Syrian refugees lie about escaping the atrocities of ISIS!

The malice of Muslims are not even that hidden. Various surveys have shown most of them want death for apostates and want Sharia for everyone; they don’t even try to hide it to the surveyors whom they call “infidels”. When stats say 70% of Muslims believe in something atrocious, it means LITERALLY 70% of Muslims. The surveyors LITERALLY surveyed every single Muslim, over a billion of them! Come on! What kind of social statistics that only survey a handful of people and claim they represent an entire group? That is just dumb and deceptive. The statistics that portray them as good people are just propaganda. They are propaganda because they threaten our fragile beliefs!

Actually, there are Muslims we can trust: the ones who demonise their fellow Muslims! They are awake enough to realise their lowest of the low status. They should be trusted with our lives. It doesn’t matter if they are motivated by fame and fortune or not. The demonisation and their pandering to anti-Muslim westerners are all that matter.

Accept the fact that they are not humans!

Hui people of China

Just like the fucking Arabs! Wait, considering how all Arabs are Muslims and all Muslims are Arabs, I am just being redundant here (and they are all brown, aren’t they?).

As I have shown you compelling evidences, I think we can quickly conclude that none of them are humans. A group of billions and they are all the same? You can convince us that they are just like us and you can die trying. Frankly, I don’t know if they are robots, aliens, an unknown species of animals or spawns of devil himself. Robots would be cool though. We can re-programme their artificial brains to obey our commands…

Wait, that is a great idea! We should capture some of them and find a way to re-programme their brains. Then, we can command them to go to the Middle East to fight ISIS themselves! Men, women, elderly, teens, children and infants! They are all able-bodied, right? They would make great toy soldiers that we can treat whatever we want! So what if they are dead? Their loss would not be missed at all. Our empathy for Muslims should only extend to the Muslim-hating ones. They are the best lap dogs we can have because we don’t need to re-programme their brains. They acknowledge their non-human status. They are the true reformers, the true progressives.

Sundanese dancers (Indonesia)

Mind blowing conclusion

(it may not seem mind blowing. But, all you have to do is “believe”)

They are deceptive robots and we should accept that as a fact…unless you want the entire world to crumble. They are a bunch of misogynistic homophobes who discriminate non-believers! Do you seriously want that? Those shits are our prerogative! Stand up for our rights to be hateful! Hate is beautiful! Love is ugly!

Senegalese dancers

Repeat after me!

Hate is beautiful! Love is ugly! Hate is beautiful! Love is ugly! Hate is beautiful! Love is ugly! Hate is beautiful! Love is ugly! Hate is beautiful! Love is ugly! Hate is beautiful! Love is ugly! Hate is beautiful! Love is ugly! Hate is beautiful! Love is ugly! Hate is beautiful! Love is ugly! Hate is beautiful! Love is ugly! Hate is beautiful! Love is ugly! Hate is beautiful! Love is ugly! Hate is beautiful! Love is ugly! Hate is beautiful! Love is ugly! Hate is beautiful! Love is ugly……

Keep going until you are more dehumanised yourself….

*Takes off the mask*

I don’t know any better (and I also do)

First published on Medium.com on July 29, 2016.

I was introduced to this website by a university lecturer of mine. Writing articles was a part of the assignments. Even though the topics intrigue, I deleted all of my works. I did so because they were assignments. Not only they lacked any passion, they were also very badly written. They were all over the places and I pretended that I knew everything. I have a bigger issue with the latter.

The older I get, the more I am obsessed with being accurate, precise and truthful (pretentious, I know). I need to understand scientific theories and social facts which I still fail to do many times. But, nowadays, the failure makes me feel really guilty. The feeling is so great, it feels like I have doomed humanity forever.

Okay, okay. I am exaggerating. But, you cannot deny that misinformation can be harmful, even though many don’t believe it. Well, the examples are already around us. Pseudo-scientific beliefs cause health-related problems and social ignorance encourage bigotry. I believe misinformation can be either deliberate or unwitting. The former is caused by people’s greed while the latter is genuine ignorance and is actually preventable. I believe it can be prevented if we stop acting like we know everything. Okay, I know it is simplistic. But, it sounds reasonable and realistic enough. Did I just say know-it-alls are out of touch from reality? Yes, I just did.

Let me tell you something you have probably known (and also cliche): There are literally billions of us and countless other creatures on earth, a tiny planet in a solar system that has seven other planets, which is in a galaxy of billions of planets, which is in a cluster of dozens of other galaxies, which is in a supercluster of hundreds of clusters and there are millions of superclusters out there. Yet, many of us choose to be insufferable know-it-alls.

I don’t know why those creatures exist in the first. I can only make guesses like “sheltered upbringing” or “overt self-confidence”. Unless I have evidences, they should not be taken seriously. But, I still think about them simply because they feel right for me…..

….Feel right. We often use emotions to determine what is truthful and what isn’t. That is not how we should live our life. Our feelings only exist inside us. They cannot be used to measure our surroundings. However, they can measure things like our morality or, in this case, our rationality. Your hurt feeling cannot refute scientific theories that contradicts your far-too-easily debunked personal metaphysics…nor can it disprove social facts that violate your unbelievably hateful prejudices. The so-called “liars” and “ignorant ones” may know more than you do.

Oh and about that. When you know the truth, speak up! When people make dubious (and potentially harmful) claims about the others, call them out! When people spread pseudo-scientific ideas, call them out! Even people who act like they know you say false things about you, call them out! Unless safety is concerned, your silence is unjustified. I cannot comprehend how some people knowingly tolerate ignorance. The reason for this may complex. But, it feels like nailing the legs of progress to the floor. As I was writing this, I just realised calling people out is not an easy task.

Before you do, you have to ask yourself first: who is the ignorant one, me or them? Because of our biases, it is difficult to answer. But, I have my own solution. When it comes to social topics, we should rely on various sources, not take social statistics for granted and not depend on stereotypes. When it comes to science, we should rely on studies with replicable results and not on metaphysical claims. When it comes to someone’s personal life, you barely know a thing about him/her, unless he/she has shared his/her deepest thoughts and feelings with you; even then, refrain yourself from judging quickly. But, once again, I still fail those things many times.

My so-called solution is too simplistic. I don’t practice what I preach. My future articles would probably have the same ignorance I condemn for moral reasons. I am a hypocrite who has the integrity of a moral police. Then, why did I waste my readers’ time (if they even exist) with this crap? Personally, this topic always intrigues me. I am genuinely interested in humans’ exploration of truth (and our shameless rejection of it). I genuinely don’t care if my article has a clear point or an applicable solution. I won’t pretend it is of any merit. I just want to express my thought regarding this topic (regardless whether people care or not). If I am going to write more in the future, I would try making an improved version of this article.