Spartan Buddha

Killing something, whether it’s a person or an idea, reveals an infected gash in your mental armor. There’s a whole bunch of different reasons why people kill stuff, some are reasonable, some are just finger-licking crazy, but all show that you feel threatened.

Killing doesn’t mean you’re a badass. It means you’re scared.

I used to run from talking to religion peddlers, whether they knocked at my door or cornered me at the mall.  I was certain that our views differed and I didn’t want to end up in a verbal cagefight. I would kill the conversation immediately like they were begging me for money.  But then I realized that my thoughts and ideas didn’t mean SHIT if I couldn’t defend them against opposition.

At first I was worried about being right or wrong, like it determined whether I’d get to wear a golden crown or be thrown down a well. But then I was concerned with the truth. There wasn’t a need to duct tape anyone’s mouth or brainwash someone into believe what I thought.  I didn’t give a shit.

People can hurt my body or my ideas all they want but the truth is bulletproof.