The Truth That Set Me Free

December 15, 2010
By Roland BRONZE, Fairfield, Connecticut
Roland BRONZE, Fairfield, Connecticut
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

“A decision begins with a question that needs to be answered. A decision ends with a verdict that both makes sense and answers the question. What occurs between a beginning and end, however, are what make decisions the puzzles that they are.”

Is there a God?

I wasn’t what you would call the most religious child or some “Pope-prodigy”. When I was born my parents decided not to take particular measures in teaching me about religion. From the immature ages and up, I was taught only the bare basics: that there is a “God” entity who lives in a nice little place called Heaven and created everything that we know while watching over us. Being a naïve little boy at the time, my gullible mind ate the new information up. I accepted this as natural fact written in industrial concrete, and moved quietly onward.

When I hit Elementary School, I quickly learned that there were different kinds of religions. I also learned about places where kids my age were attending in order to learn more about religion, like “CCD” or Hebrew School. Other than the occasional lazy grumble from my friends about their mandatory enlistment, my selfish little boy mind noted nothing particularly imperative to my happiness and trod onward. The simple workings in my mind didn’t compute racism or prejudice. I didn’t recognize particular difference. I just swept ignorantly through the early years of my life.

Then, like a radioactive zombie horde on the horizon, came:

The Teen Years
(Still Present)

The Teen Years are the dreaded years (or to the ignorant, the hopeful years) of every person’s lifetime. There is so much going on, what with the questions on self-existence and destiny, etc, puberty, etc. As expected from my foolish younger self, I still didn’t particularly care about my religion! I had the more standard and stereotypical thoughts running through my cranium: school, women, sports, video games, and all the other miscellaneous thoughts that ranged from: “Gee, what’s for dinner?” to the random “What the hell is wrong with Justin Beiber!?” But this mid-puberty rush was interrupted by the one cat in the dog house, the poison in the buffet. Like the Zombie Apocalypse, things went from a sleepy docile to a crazy Molotov Cocktail: 7th Grade.

At first everything was fine in 7th grade; my classes were good, I had fine friends, and my teachers were great. Or so I thought. About 1/3 of the way into the school year, I found the metaphorical serpent in my ironic Garden of Eden. I found that I absolutely hated a certain teacher of mine. HATED. I couldn’t stand him! He was my worst nightmare come to life! Every second I spent in his class with him felt as though someone (probably him) was cramming a tank glued to a porcupine down my large intestine. He was an absolute horror, but the worst part about him was that I had no idea why I hated him so much! I had no reason at all to feel badly towards him! But it was like an unseen aura was seeping out of him and slapping me in the face. Every fiber of my being was permanently weakened by him.

As I was still naïve, I saw him as just another bump in the road and tried feebly to move on. I tried optimism, meditation, ignoring his aura and even feigning happiness until I finally met my wit’s end. I went past the border of sanity and crazy flakes. I was broken. He broke me. I don’t think he even disliked me! It was a horrible time, dreading the wretched class where he commanded me for what seemed like eternity to the eighth power. I couldn’t comprehend what was happening as I finally ran out of options. As I hit rock bottom, I tried one final hope: I asked God for help. I asked for safety, for an end to this nightmare. But he never came. I never heard him. But I did hear something. On a usual day in the doldrums, I heard a whisper in my head. It was like a dream, yet at the same time I was awake. My body was in between Earth and somewhere near my temples. I heard the thoughts. I wasn’t even controlling my mind anymore, Roland was. Roland developed as my split personality. He is my anger, my spite, my hate, while my regular self is docile and quiet. On that day, he told me what I had been silently denying all this time.

“He doesn’t hear. How co---. How could he? He doesn’t ex---…”

I heard Roland hissing in my ears and playing a tune with my nerve endings. He sounded like a broken radio transmission.
“NO. N---No. He cannot help you. Hear me. I can hear you. A s---sick Joke. He’s a foolish myth to inspire h—hope. To rely o—on. But w—e can’t rely on him, on it. We must help ourselves. O---ourse—lves…ourselves”

I felt something coursing through my veins. It was something I hadn’t felt in a long time. Adrenaline, yes, but also…realization. I was experiencing an epiphany. I heard his last mournful cry tear through my bones.
“Save Us.”

Knowledge flooded through me. I analyzed it all and took it in. It is now my iron law. There is no God. There is nobody watching over us and protecting us. He is more of a threat than a savior at this point. The belief that he helps us makes us think that we can do foolhardy things and just let life run its course. But life isn’t like that. We have to develop our skills and powers with our own hard work. We have to rely on real things, like ourselves or even our friends and family, at times. Humanity cannot keep living a lie. All the religions that have one or multiple entities are hindrances to our survival. We can never truly be free while such a burden hangs over us. We must live free without debt or regret. Humans must learn to get off their lazy bums and find their life. Then and only then will we reach true “enlightenment”. I saw the truth, and I choose not to believe in the notion of God. I have become an Atheist. But I have gone further. Holy symbols disturb me now. Places of holy worship unnerve me. They are anchors that pull us back into the murk of blindness. But my verdict is now clear and pristine:

God Does Not Exist

I think that humans will survive, however. We have proven multiple times that we have the strength to push onward through hardship and pain. We can win. I was able to survive the rest of 7th grade, which just goes to show what this mindset can heal. I am in control of my future. I can make my own choices. I have control over myself and Roland. We live together and walk each other’s shoes. We push onward through the currently corrupt mankind. We know the truth.

It Saved Us.

The author's comments:
When my teacher told us to create a memoir, I decided to write about something that was important to me. Namely, my lack of religion.

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