Places of the Heart

I

don’t think of myself as a romantic. Not in the classic meaning of the word, anyway. Most people who don’t know me very well might mark me as a detestable cynic and though I’m not abominably sour or despicably gloomy, I do have an unquestionable dose of black humor that can be perceived as cynical or, also possibly, downright unpleasant, though in general, I am the kindest person you can come across.

I am not a pessimist by nature, either, was it not for the fact that mankind tries very hard and very capably to convince me that there is no hope for the human race of ever becoming a peaceful and civil inhabitant of this planet and therefore worth of my respect.

I might also be defined by many as an Atheist, which is the quick way for them to deal with a word they don’t understand: Agnostic. Because that is what I am: an Agnostic; and like the majority of the agnostics on this planet, I’m not refusing deity in principle, I just have no proof whatsoever that he/she/it is there to begin with, as well as of the contrary. And even if he/she/it does exist, then he/she/it will most likely not be interested in whether or not we believe in his/her/its existence. That’s all.

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