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Bad Things happen to Good People

I know why bad things happen to good people. I’ve cracked the code.

Bad things happen to good people, because we let it.

Bad things happen to good people because we see the world through a glass of rainbows and other good things. So when we look through this rainbow glass, bad people have the same rainbow colours.

Bad things happen to good people because we let our guard down. Good people expect every person they meet to have been raised with the same values and morals as we have. We don’t expect them to be bad. No, we expect them to be good until they prove otherwise. Bad things don’t happen to bad people because they see the world for what it is. They see the world through a glass of black and white. They naturally assume everyone is bad and have a hidden motive, even when proved otherwise.

When bad things happen that are beyond your control, who do you blame? The person who wronged you? The universe? Life? Luck? Or do you turn to the God that you don’t always believe in and blame that guy? Cause obviously, with everyone saying ‘god has a better plan’, would also mean that he intended that bad thing to happen to you ,right? Cause its all his GREAT plan to see you suffer and eventually love him?

Does love always come after suffering? Are we all programmed to believe in order to love or be loved we need to constantly be tested and put to our limits? Isn’t God a bit insecure that way? Why  does he need constant reassurance that people still love him? Why does he need to ‘test’ us and make us jump 10 feet hurdles while putting us on crutches? What is he so insecure about?

Does anyone know? Or do we all just blindly fall in line and believe what’s been vomited to our ears generations and generations on.

Maybe I haven’t cracked the code after all.

 

Yours Truly,

Painted Shadow

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Author:

I stare at walls hoping that something would guide me to another dimension where everything makes sense. I take life as it comes. I reside in which is now known to be the fastest growing city in the Middle East, Dubai. Surrounded by fake greenery and dusty air, I long for rain. I long for rain to drench my very being, untill i feel nothing but clean and revived. I dream of happy things and i know for certain that Peter pan and pixies and fairies and Santa exists. I know. Because theres no point in not believing. Im a child. I am a grain of sand. I am a speckle of dust in this polluted world. I am a spirit roaming the end of the earth, trying to find that wall. (Read the page Painted shadow for details)

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