Destiny

What is destiny and who defines it? Let's be straight, people tend to define their own destiny and, honestly, it's only up to them if they succeed in what they pursue or not. If you try hard enough, you're gonna be well off, IMHO. But what about others? I've had a sleepless night tonight. The reason might sound pretty strange. Neighbours have tied a lamb, meant for some damn stupid sacrifice, outside on the balcony, adjacent to mine. The poor thing was bleating the whole night, stealing my sleep, not so much because of the sounds it made, but of the pity I felt for it. I got up at nearly 7am, just to escape the bedroom and the balcony and the sound of the animal. I'm sure that it will be dead by the time I get home again.

So why is life so unfair? Who gave us the right to rule the destiny of others? We claim to be wiser and superior, thus granting ourselves the right to rule those who are defenceless, while at the same time we abolish death sentences for those, who have killed, raped and did disguisting acts mostly even repeatedly. Where's logic? If we can define destinies of lambs, who have done no wrong, why can't we define destinies of scum like serial killers, mass murdurers and others of that sort? Is that the act of being falsely humane? But what for? Prisoners of that kind, given life-long sentences eat/drink/sleep/use electricity and water/do whatever else on taxes paid by common citizens, including relatives and friends of their victims. Is that right? I don't find that right.

I often hear people say that life is priceless, untouchable, sacred. But that's so lame and so artificial. It's like saying that only when your species is involved, but damn with the others. People are used to care only about other people, if ever at all. This chicken's price was only 2 Georgian Lari. Does anyone think that it's the price of its life? Jirka and I did. We spent the whole trip from that market in uptown Tbilisi to Mtskheta talking about this and I was so glad to find another person, thinking the same way. It's rare, you know.

But the rarer it is, more helpless you feel. At least I do. It's not that I can change this, or that Jirka can, or any other person, who gives a shit. On my way to work today I was sitting at the window in a mini-bus and caught a sight of a horribly looking dog. It was a pitbull. Out on the streets, cast away, hungry, homeless, dirty and eaten by bugs. Is that how humans define someone else's destiny? Is that how they cherish the life they call sacred and untouchable, moreover priceless? Mind that pitbulls cost quite a lot in Georgia, but previous owners of the dog decided to throw it out on the streets. Priceless, right? Well, if so, I'd rather be associated with someone else, rather than my fellow species, because they all turn out to be heartless fat liars...