What kills us is certainty,
unwavering conviction that we are doing the right thing.
The ends have to be unquestioned to justify the means,
questions leave room for empathy and doubt.
Socrates – the man who said that the only certainty is the lack thereof –
died because of his stubborn conviction that he knew the right thing to do.
Because eventually even the bravest of us give in
to the comfort of certain death
after a lifetime in the quicksand of uncertain truths.
The only solution is love
because it makes truth less important than life.
If Socrates had children,
he would have lived longer
and died without leaving a legend.
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