Burn Their Gods, Build Your Own: A Fire for the Cowards Who Worship Control
The gods you bow to are liars. They were never meant to save you. They were never designed to guide you. Your gods are frauds, birthed by human greed and sustained by your blind, pathetic devotion. They are the tools of power, the chains on your neck, the whisper in your ear that says, “Submit and be saved.” But saved from what? Yourself? Your choices? The truth?
No. These gods save you from nothing because they are nothing. They are hollow. They are puppets created by men who needed control and saw your fear as an opportunity. They don’t serve you; they serve the systems that exploit you.
The Philosophy of The Everything, The Nothing, and The Something
In the chaos of existence lies a spectrum that defines every human action. At one extreme is The Everything—all that is, was, and could be. It’s the infinite potential that connects us, the shared force of creation and growth. At the other end lurks The Nothing, the void of selfishness, where taking precedes giving, where exploitation trumps empathy, and where life begins and ends in emptiness.
Between these extremes lies The Something. It is the tangible, the actionable, the real. It’s the force that builds rather than consumes, that preserves rather than destroys. The Something is what you can create, what you can give meaning to, and what will ultimately define you.
Most of you, let’s be honest, live in The Nothing. You clothe it in excuses and call it survival. You disguise it with rituals and call it faith. But The Nothing is hollow. It is the god of stagnation, greed, and cowardice. And it’s time to burn it.
The Parasite Gods You Worship
Let’s call it what it is: the gods you cling to are parasites. They suck your will, your accountability, your agency, and leave you with nothing but excuses. They exist to absolve you of responsibility while demanding obedience. They thrive on your fear and feed on your ignorance.
“Have faith,” they say, “and you’ll be forgiven.” Forgiven for what? For being human? For making mistakes? For not conforming to the bullshit rules designed to keep you compliant? These gods thrive because you’re too scared to ask questions, too weak to stand on your own, and too desperate for someone else to take the blame.
They don’t care about your morality. They don’t care about your growth. They care about control. They exist to keep you small, to keep you dependent, to keep you swallowing their lies while they laugh at your cowardice. And you? You worship them like they’re the answer when they’re the problem.
Burn Their Gods, Burn Their Lies
You want salvation? You want meaning? Burn the gods that demand you kneel. Burn the gods that tell you to look away while they exploit you. Burn the gods that absolve your selfishness and call it grace. They are liars, every last one of them.
Your gods are not divine. They are constructs—man-made and man-serving. They were built to make you a servant, not a leader. They thrive because you are too comfortable blaming them for your failures and thanking them for your luck.
Burn them. Burn their temples. Burn the narratives that have you trading your humanity for hollow promises.
Build a God That Matters
If you need a god, and let’s face it, most of you do, then build one that’s worth a damn. Build a god that doesn’t demand worship but demands action. Build a god that doesn’t absolve your sins but forces you to own them. Build a god that doesn’t ask for submission but challenges you to rise.
Let this god serve The Something: the part of you that builds instead of destroys, that preserves instead of exploits, that chooses creation over complacency. This isn’t a god of indulgence. This is a god that asks, “What the fuck are you doing with your life?”
- The God of Accountability: This god doesn’t care about your excuses. It demands you own your choices, your actions, and their impact. You can’t hide from it.
- The God of Compassion: This god isn’t about soft feelings or fake empathy. It’s about sacrificing your ego to connect, to love, to guide others without controlling them.
- The God of Preservation: This god knows survival matters, but not at the cost of everything else. It demands balance—your needs versus the needs of the world around you.
The Tyranny of The Nothing
Most of you live in The Nothing. Let’s not sugarcoat it. You are selfish, hollow, and lazy. You want everything but give nothing. You expect forgiveness without accountability, salvation without effort. The Nothing is your god, and it is killing you.
The Nothing whispers in your ear:
- “It’s not your fault.”
- “You don’t owe anyone anything.”
- “Take what you can and screw the rest.”
And you listen because it’s easy. Because it feels good. Because it keeps you from facing the truth: you are a leech. You are a parasite. You are not building anything; you are consuming everything.
Burn it. Burn the Nothing inside you before it consumes you completely.
The Philosophy of Fire
The fire of The Something isn’t warm. It doesn’t comfort. It doesn’t coddle. It burns. It destroys the false gods, the hollow narratives, the lies you tell yourself to stay small and weak. It demands that you rise, that you choose accountability, compassion, preservation—not because it’s easy, but because it’s necessary.
To build The Something, you must let the fire consume everything that isn’t real. Burn the gods that exploit you. Burn the lies you tell yourself. Burn the Nothing that keeps you stagnant.
A Challenge to the Faithful
You who worship gods of control, gods of submission, gods of apathy—what are you afraid of? Are you scared that without them you’ll have to stand on your own? Are you scared that you might actually be responsible for your choices? Are you scared that the power you give to your gods might actually belong to you?
Good. Be scared. But don’t let it stop you. Burn their gods, build your own, and take the power back. You owe it to yourself. You owe it to The Something.
And if you don’t? If you choose to stay in The Nothing, to let the gods of exploitation own you? Then you deserve the emptiness you’ll find there. Just don’t expect the rest of us to kneel with you. We’ve got a fire to tend.
Amor Fati
