You have killed God and are afraid of Him. The God of creation, of distinction, if you will, the God of prejudice, even of segregation. He creates by dividing one thing from another, light from darkness, up from down, the earth and the sea. You hated that, sought to take that power unto yourself, to make your own meaning and to set your own course. Now, you find only madness. Running on the fumes without the source, the reason, you have found that thing which is not God; unexistance, the folding in of everything into naught, the lines blur away.
What You Have Found
Tale Told 