I think a lot of people carry the values passed down from their parents—or whoever raised them, really. Sometimes it's not biological parents, but caretakers, mentors, or other respected figures. Some people don’t have parents around, or they don’t respect the ones they do have, for various reasons.
To me, having clear values is really important. Religion plays a big role in that for many people. It’s a complicated subject—one that often shapes who someone is on a deep level. I’ve been around a lot of different religions and belief systems, and honestly, I sometimes find myself wondering what the “correct” way to think even is.
I’ve heard arguments from all sides. Like the classic one aimed at atheists: “If you don’t believe in God, what’s stopping you from murdering?” But that same question can be flipped: “If religion is the only thing stopping you from murdering, what does that say about you?” Personally, I don’t think I would ever do something like that—not because of religion, but because it goes against my values. I just believe it’s wrong.
I’ve had a lot of different pets over the years—dogs, cats, birds, bunnies, hamsters, even snakes. And something I’ve learned from caring for them is that, as a human (arguably the more powerful species), it’s still important to respect them. People love to simplify things—we generalize, exaggerate, just to get a message across. But respect is something that shouldn’t be oversimplified.
Take my snakes, for example. I’ve raised them since they were small. I’ve always fed them store-bought rats—never anything wild. Where I live, frozen rats weren’t always available, so sometimes I had to buy live ones. When I tell people this, I usually get reactions like: “You keep those as pets?” or “Don’t they bite you?” or “What do you feed them?”
Yes, I’ve been bitten once—in 13 years. And I blame myself for handling them the wrong way during feeding. But here’s the thing: I don’t fear my pets. I respect them. They deserve it. I don’t believe in torturing animals. In fact, I never liked feeding them live rats. Frozen is safer and more humane. But when live rats were the only option, I experimented with different approaches.
Feeding live rats is risky. The snake could bite in the wrong spot or hesitate, and the rat could end up injuring it. And reptiles take a long time to heal. So yes, I do feel bad for the rat. That’s why I eventually started pre-killing them before feeding. Not out of cruelty—out of respect. I didn’t want my snakes hurt, and I didn’t want the rats to suffer unnecessarily.
I won’t go into details, but the method was quick and bloodless. Still, it never felt good. But we eat beef and chicken every day without thinking twice. That disconnect says something too.
Something I’m trying to get at here is that anything is only as important as you let it be. If someone lies to you and you find out, you feel betrayed. You see them differently. That’s reputation, and it goes hand-in-hand with respect. If someone always jokes and lies, there's a small chance you'll believe them when they say, “There’s a pot of gold at the end of that rainbow.” It’s the same principle as The Boy Who Cried Wolf.
Honestly, I’m kind of rambling here, but as I was telling my brother the other day—I feel like I’m looking for something and struggling to find it.
I think the real problem isn’t religion, or death, or belief systems—it’s control. The control of people as a population. There are people who want a communist society, and I think the idea is interesting. But it’s never worked. I do understand those who say it’s just never been implemented “correctly.” See how I didn’t say “communist people”? That’s because labels are part of the problem.
Labels are a shortcut. They simplify others so we can form quick, surface-level opinions about them. And I’ve always hated politics because it creates sides. It creates division. But life isn’t linear. It’s not even a spectrum—it’s something way more complex. Not just three-dimensional or four-dimensional... something infinite. And we, as humans, can’t comprehend that. We try—but our brains are limited. Maybe that’s part of what makes all of this so hard.
I'll keep making posts about this, obviously. It’s one of those things that reflects a lot of the thoughts I have in my head right now, and I just need answers. At the moment, I don’t know what to do, and it feels like there’s never going to be a clear answer—but I keep hoping.
On a separate note, I’m also working on a post about something related: What do you really want?. I’ve been asking people around me that question, and soon I’ll start asking strangers on the street to get broader perspectives. My usual approach is to ask the question simply and collect their immediate, gut-response answers. Then, I invite them to reach out later—after they’ve had time to really think about it—to see how (or if) their answer changes when they take as long as they want.