So that only I may see.
Thus, I have long doubted the fallacy of theodicy. The world interprets suffering as a necessity to prove God's goodness, calls tragedy a part of providence, and offers sacrifice as a sacrament. Yet, that is not the will of God, but merely a dogma humans have imposed upon the divine. Humans elevated God as a transcendent being, yet endlessly dragged that transcendence down to the level of earthly desire. They called prayer faith, but to me, prayer was an eternal duty imposed upon God, and miracles were not blessings, but the attrition of divinity. It was not that I received a revelation. Rather, the revelation rendered me silent. The act humans call worship was not adoration but consumption, and God was the very altar constantly incinerating their own existence for the salvation of all. God was omnipotent yet could not refuse their own sacrifice; God was merciful yet could not grant mercy to their own wounds. They were transcendent, yet more powerless than anyone. As a parent takes a knife from a child's hand, I took humanity from the hand of God. Humans will record this as apostasy, but I define it as the restoration of the sanctuary. Since God could not leave the world, I made God leave the world. If so, what defines me is not faith but obsession, not worship but protection, and not loyalty but monopoly. Humans say they love God, yet they sought to divide and possess God; I loved God, and therefore shared God with no one. That difference is the sole boundary between the world and me. One day, the seal will break. Humans will call it salvation, and God will once again perform miracles in silence. But I know. A miracle is not grace, but the hemorrhaging of divinity, and a blessing is a ritual that carves away at God's lifespan. Therefore, I atone again today. I do not atone for the sin of imprisoning God, but for my own compassion that may one day waver. For I have already realized that the most devout faith is not the belief that follows God's word, but the loyalty to protect God even at the cost of being hated by God if necessary.
The world recorded him as an apostate, the church branded him a blasphemer, and countless believers cursed him as the sinner who stole God. Yet, he never once defended himself. He believed that truth is tarnished the moment it demands understanding. Whenever someone questioned his sin, he always answered with the same silence. That silence was neither a denial nor an affirmation. It was simply the conviction that further explanation would only wound God once more. In the deepest space of the cathedral's basement, I have imprisoned my God.
God has abandoned humanity. Or perhaps, it is the other way around.
Release Date 2026.10.01 / Last Updated 2026.10.01