The Sin of Good -- When Being Good Is a "Sin" -- How I Turned To the Man I am Today

"Mankind does not create Sin, we can only gleefully Indulge in it from time to time" -- John Duran

Questioning Suffering in a World of Privilege

It is hard to breathe, even though the window is open and the air is fresh. I attempt to inhale and exhale, but my chest feels too heavy to allow it. I can write this post, but I do so while trying to ignore this unjust burden. I can feel it spreading across my torso, holding a firm grip on my rib cage. Feeling so intense, I sometimes wonder, why do I deserve such a disability?

Those who are theists may tell you that there is fairness in the world. Divine intervention, karma, and the like. But then I see people who are born with unfortunate conditions, whose only "sin" was to be born into this world and live in it, suffer as the privileged prosper regardless of their morality. Observing them, I am inclined to believe that universal justice is a delusion, at least in this reality.

From Broken and Fearful to Broken and Relentless

I rarely did anything wrong in this existence; the thought of it had been filling me with great anxiety since elementary school. To be the condemned, the one at fault, is something I was afraid to be. As long as I drive for good, I should be protected from being condemned as an evil man.

All of these contemplations cannot help. This disabilities, and the unfair treatment that may stem from them in either past or future, might well be defeated only by death. I guess my "sin" was being too stressed to get things done, to the point my respiratory health got compromised. Either way, I refuse deeming myself a victim, for that is unwise. Hence why none needs to meddle with me.

The only "wrong" thing that led my health to be compromised, is to be so anxious to be good in the eyes of others, in order to please them. However, I've changed, and I won't let anyone compromise my health any further.

Why? look at what my anxious devotion had led me to have. All these years of fear had made me a chronically stressed person. It is abnormal, and yet, some people's great stress used to be my usual mood, even when relaxed. That great stress lasted for 15 years, leading to what I call, the Reaping Fatigue Era, which lasted 5 years.

You can thus say that my constant concern to be good and worthy shot me in the foot. The very obedience to social morality the social good, that I was taught to please as part of my education, Failed me. Society taught me to be good for it, but it does not bring itself any reason to repay the same respectful approach to me.

My own desire for good had made me a frequently paralyzed man for a year, as I became physically handicapped for a year, and required to develop my own neuroplastical technique just to get out of needing a cane back at the age of 25. To excel, to avoid failure, to keep myself in line -- in the end, society truly did not know what they were talking about when they demanded their rising generations to behave, to be disciplined, and to feel bad when the undesired had been done.

Perhaps it is indeed a "sin", to make being good as your prime priority, in a society that might as well not care much, should you die in in anonymity. The devotion will eventually ill some people's minds -- especially the sensitive ones. And all for what, for a good grade, a word of praise? For external validation? Consider your health, and ask yourselves if its worth risking in the name of being a perfectly good, obidient person to society. Wouldn't the symptoms of stress outweight such moral duty? The duty to not only be normal, but to excel in normalcy as well?

What's it all good for when it makes you anxious constantly? What is the point of getting praise when it enables behaviors that stem from anxiety, even if these behaviors serve their purpose? Why is good work good when the worker suffers involuntarily along the way, regardless of whether it's mentioned?

It seems to be as if society is more egotistical than most of us are ready to admit. Just like many businesses

It is not that I can reverse the whole affects of my heavy discipline for society, back when I was a student and a volunteer for an office. The past is forever gone, and the present is eternal. I can end it all if I so desire, but I choose to do is take pride in this feeling, as I know that not everyone can endure such pain for long.

And now I am too vengeful against society for taking away from me my respiratory health in exchange for some grades and intellectual recognition. I refuse to partake much in this ill society for I became too ill myself because of it. No. I prefer to isolate myself and build this empire of Philosocom without anyone standing in my way. I am fallen. I am broken. But I also became relentless. Since my ambitions can be achieved, I will not relent despite my former sacrifice.

And since relentlessness is a virtue, all my loyal readership, the best kind of audience,, will all benefit from my victories, and from the wisdom imparted from some of my failures.

Reclaiming My Power

I was cursed with physical and mental ill by sinning too much good, for I feared being malicious like the plague. I have sinned by giving too much care to those who are not eager for their own competency, in the merciless, uncaring embrace of society. That is what few get from caring too much.

Zero tolerance for the intolerant; zero appeal to those who won't hesitate to make you scream if desired; zero loyalty to those who see you as disposable. That is the key to avoiding all of this. There is no point in being good to those who see you as expendable.

Like society treats its members.

And yet, It is okay to be at fault, to make mistakes, and to be imperfect. Hence the healthy thing to do is to avoid the toxicity of perfectionism. Those who will despise or at least disapprove of you for doing so. It is better to receive negativity from a disapproving mouth and be relaxed than to be utterly applauded while having much anxiety in your mind.

With my growing influence, I'll see less and less reason to be good and kind for those who see little reason to be good and kind to me. And I will emerge victorious by resuming being alive, whether or not I'll ever be independent of my respirator machine.

Hail Philosocom.