The other day I was listening to Rammstein’s song ‘Engel’ and wondering about its meaning. In the song, a man says that whoever has been good during his life, at the time of death he will transform into an angel, but then wonders why, when we look at the sky, we cannot see them. Then, the angels answer that they can only be seen when clouds have gone to sleep, and that they’re alone and have fear. Finally, the man replies something like: ‘God knows I don’t wanna be an angel’. And my question was why the angels say they’re alone and scared, but I think I’ve started to figure it out.

What is the point of doing good? Do you only do it out of duty, because it’s what should be done? To get rid of the weight of consciousness? Or is there something else? I have always felt within me an unshakable and steely determination to do good simply because I was convinced that it was the best for everyone, including me. I have forgiven things no one had ever forgiven, I tried to put myself in the place of others to understand things that I didn’t have to understand necessary, all out of compassion, for wanting to help them close their wounds and end their suffering while I tried to do the same with mine. And now I’m alone and I’m scared, thousands of light years away of reality, stripped of all my faith, I feel God has abandoned me, if I ever felt He was here with me, if  I ever believed in Him. Sometimes I feel unbearably guilty for not being happy in my life when I’ve been more fortunate than many other human beings in the world. Maybe I’m just a ninny, but once read that the cry of one man is like the cry of thousands. I descended to the depths of pain, to understand what lies in the human heart when it has had enough. I’ve gotten all the way into the wolf’s mouth, just to see how far someone can get for their selfishness. The conclusions I have reached on both issues are not reassuring.

When someone has had enough, two things can only happen: either he becomes tremendously generous and kind, or becomes a selfish and bitter being or a two-sided monster. I thought the world would never get to break my spirit, that I’d never give up on my purpose of doing things well, although it cost me a lot to. In the end, it seems that people have actually managed to break me, and I’m about to lay down arms. Why keep striving? Everyone is mediocre, and feel proud about their lack of principles and meanness. They live so comfortable, wallowing in their own waste. And I can’t bear this anger, I cannot deal with this despair. I wish I could turn them against me one more time, to mourn until dawn, but I can’t anymore. I have no faith, I have no will, I’ve lost my innocence forever and I cannot hurt me more than I’ve done. I can’t believe in anything. I’m all alone and have fear. And God knows I don’t want to be an angel. I hope He will forgive me, I can’t do anything more.

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