Slave's Love (Pirate!Spamano)

Capítulo 40 (cuarenta)

Antonio

Another month passed. The last bits of snow have disappeared and instead, flowers began to bloom. Fresh green has switched places with whiteness, provoking one's eyes to look outside into a new world because the former one has been lost, or rather, it has been reborn. It's new and yet, at the end, it will be the same as the ones before. It will be the same and at the same time, it'll be different. We might remember it in our later years as something life-changing or it might blend in with those other years, creating our life.

However, Nature isn't the only one who gets reborn in spring. We, humans, also reborn without us really knowing. After all, don't we also slow down during winter? Don't we also think that, good; the seeds have been planted, the crops have grown, wheat has been harvested, bread has been made, now we may rest?

Winter is a self-reflecting time where we don't have to worry about summer storms ruining our output or early frost killing it in autumn. It's that time of year when we realize just how grateful we should be for what has happened to us and how grateful we shall be for what will happen to us in the next one. We realize that there are going to be bad days and that we can't do much about it, can't prepare ourselves for them because we don't know just when will they come.

If we did know, we'd try our best to avoid them since no-one likes to suffer and yet, whenever happiness knocks on our doors, we get frightened because, ever since we were children, we were taught that we don't deserve happiness unless we suffer. But at least, after we've suffered enough, we get to look at things differently. We find gratitude because of pain. If there wasn't any suffering, would humans know what happiness is?

We find happiness because of pain. We find pleasure because of pain.

I guess it's gotten natural for our species to be like that. After all, it's not a new-found thing now, at the beginning of the 1700s. Monks whipping themselves in the name of God, Aztecs sacrificing others so they would please their Gods. Even in Sparta, Persia or even the ancient kingdom of Egypt – humans always thought that pain would make them stronger, that pain is the only thing we deserve. It's even mentioned multiple times in the Old and New Testaments in Bible and Bible only speaks the truth, doesn't it?

Christ suffered for us on the cross so we could live in paradise. That's what we're told from a young age. But is it really the right thing to do? To suffer? Suffering is a bad thing so why isn't it mentioned in the 7 Deadly sins?

It's so easy to believe in that and so hard to realize just how stupid it is. It's all been created in our heads, nothing more. However, if someone has asked what is right – to suffer for the bad things we've done or not – no-one would be able to answer. People always talk like they know everything but when you ask them a question, they know nothing.

But it's funny how, whenever someone whips themselves for whatever heavenly reason, they feel at ease because they "deserved it" but whenever that same person walks barefoot on stones or walks in winter without a coat, they don't feel at ease and yet, they are experiencing pain as well. Just a different one.

It's the same and yet, at the same time, it's completely different.

Really though – why is our mind set like that? Why do we make up scenarios in our head that only hurt us later on and we think we deserve it? Maybe if we weren't like that, there would be no wars; other countries wouldn't have to be "punished" for being richer than others, and no people would've been killed just because they were different than what society had made up in its little head.

Even I have gone through that; creating and then getting hurt because of my creation. And I deeply regret it. But I was blinded by pain, by the thought that I didn't deserve to be happy. But God, how selfish I was! I made an unreal enemy and fought it, declaring it was to protect someone else. I felt like Don Quixote fighting windmills; crazy, convinced I was doing the right thing, that it was all real.