Belief

All I have to hold onto is doubt. There is no certainty. There is nothing to believe in. All that once was sure and certain is gone, lost forever. I never could believe. It seemed somehow naïve, an unwillingness, a deliberate blindness, a step back from the brink. A refusal to look over the edge.

A believer is someone who will not step up to the edge and look down; see how far there is to fall. Belief is security, safety. A safety rail that prevents them getting too close to the edge, covered with warning sighs that warn of the very great dangers of ignoring them.

It always seemed to be – somehow – a denial of responsibility, a shifting of the blame, to believe in some greater force: religious, political, mystical or whatever.