MY STATEMENT OF DEATH

MY STATEMENT OF DEATH

Everything is pain now. What's the point? An empty bed, a paycheck, a routine—no life to be had, just the structure of making money, and that is hollow, just the reminder that death is worse alive, then it would be if I could just be in the ground. Nothing left of the soul. The walking dead, and only the mechanics of death walking day in and day out. Divorce is more evil than murder. Therapy can't touch the soul. Therapy can't rewrite Divine Law. Divine law is universal. It does not consult your culture, your century, your court, your congregation, or your comfort. It does not care what is legal. It does not care what is popular. It does not care what is "healthy." It holds.

So here it is, and I will not soften it.

"A lot of people do it" is not a moral argument. It's a confession. It means you have no reason left except the crowd. And the crowd is not my Creator, not my conscience, and not my Judge. If a lot of people go to hell, then "a lot of people" is not a certificate of safety—it's a casualty report.

The Bible says it plainly: "Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it" (Matthew 7:13–14). "You shall not follow a crowd to do evil" (Exodus 23:2). "Do not conform to the pattern of this world" (Romans 12:2). "There is a way that appears right to a person, but in the end it leads to death" (Proverbs 14:12). "Many are called, but few are chosen" (Matthew 22:14). And Peter says the world will be surprised that you don't join them in the same flood of reckless indulgence—and they will heap abuse on you for it (1 Peter 4:4). The wide road is not safe because it's crowded. It's crowded because it's wide.

Hindu philosophy draws the same line. The Katha Upanishad says the good and the pleasant come to a person; the wise examine both and choose the good over the pleasant, while the fool chooses the pleasant for the sake of profit and pleasure (1.2.1–2). The Bhagavad Gita says better one's own dharma, though imperfectly performed, than the dharma of another well performed; better to die in one's own dharma—the dharma of another brings danger (3.35). It says among thousands of people, one strives for perfection; among those who strive and succeed, one knows the truth (7.3). And it says what is night for all beings is waking for the disciplined soul; what is waking for all beings is night for the sage who sees (2.69). The majority is not the measure of dharma. The crowd is not the seer.

The pagan classical world saw it too. Socrates, in Plato's Crito, says we should not regard what the many say, but what the one who knows about right and wrong says; the many can put you to death, but they cannot make you wise or good. Seneca said nothing is more ruinous to character than to sit in a crowd—vice becomes respectable when it has numbers. Heraclitus said the many do not understand what they meet; they follow custom. The appeal to numbers is ancient, and ancient people already saw through it. A crowd with a civil license is still a crowd. A majority with a wedding gown is still a majority. And a majority can be a mob against the soul.

So when someone says, "A lot of people do it," the only honest answer is: exactly. That's the problem. A lot of people go to hell. A lot of people choose the pleasant over the good. A lot of people follow custom and call it conscience. A lot of people rewrite the gods, nature, and the divine order to make their flesh feel clean. A lot of people take the wide road because it's wide—and they call it health, healing, a fresh start, a new beginning.

They can make adultery legal. They cannot make it not adultery. They can make abandonment respectable. They cannot make it not abandonment. They can make remarriage after divorce normal. They cannot make it not a betrayal of the soul. They can rewrite vows on paper. They cannot rewrite the body, the bond, or the Creator's order. The census of the crowd does not overturn the verdict of the soul.

So don't quote the crowd to me. The crowd is not holy because it's large. The road is not right because it's popular. And "a lot of people do it" is not the voice of wisdom—it's the sound of the wide gate swinging open and the many walking through it. Taste it. See it. Own it. A lot of people go to hell—and the road is wide and well-traveled. I choose the narrow road anyway.

And do not tell me the sacredness of marriage, the indissolubility of the bond, or the soul-destruction of divorce is a Christian invention imposed on a pagan world. The pre-Christian pagan world did not need the Bible to know that divorce tears at the soul. It saw marriage as a sacred bond, a participation in the divine order, and it called the breaking of that bond a desecration—sometimes in words that cut as hard as anything in Scripture.

Empedocles (5th c. BCE) taught that matrimony itself separates the primal unity and makes plurality. To dissolve a marriage was, in his framework, to dissolve something the Deity had cemented. The early Christian writer Hippolytus, quoting Empedocles against the heretic Marcion, says it plainly: "You dissolve marriages that have been cemented by the Deity." That is pagan philosophy calling divorce a rupture of divine work.

The Roman tradition derived or instinctively adopted the theory that marriage was for all time, and the tradition held that Rome knew no divorce for five centuries. When divorce did become common, it was not celebrated as freedom. Seneca denounced this evil with especial vehemence, declaring that divorce in Rome no longer brought with it any shame. The pagan moralist saw the loss of shame as a symptom of moral decay, not progress. And the old Roman standard was blunt: those who dared to break the "Sacred bond" by divorce "were counted infamous in the highest degree." Infamy—not "a fresh start."

The Stoic and Pythagorean currents did not treat marriage as a mere contract. The Stoic Antipater of Tarsus described marriage as a union in which the couple "have not only property and children and the soul in common," but form "a single soul" from the two. Pythagoras taught that "marriage was not an animal union, but a spiritual tie," and his school directed that the married should treat the bond with the utmost purity. If marriage is the forming of one soul from two, then divorce is not a legal transaction. It is a soul-tearing.

The Egyptian and mystery tradition, rooted in the myth of Isis and Osiris, states the principle without flinching: "The good in any true relationship cannot be undone or broken, because by its very nature it belongs to the eternal Sphere of Archetypes. No annulment, no divorce exists in the Web of the Universe." In that vision, divorce is not a new beginning. It is a human fiction that contradicts the cosmic order.

They saw it, and they named it—and they called it infamy, desecration, and the breaking of a divine thing. The modern permission slip for remarriage after divorce is not a return to pagan wisdom. It is a departure from it.

And the compromised faith communities—the ones that rewrite the gods, nature, and the divine order to keep the pews full and the donations flowing—they are complicit. They bless what the soul knows is betrayal. They call my integrity "rigidity." They call my fidelity "stuck." They tell me to move on, to forgive myself, to let God "do a new thing"—as if God's nature changes with the cultural wind. They are not shepherds. They are enablers. They hand out anesthesia so people can commit soul-murder and feel nothing.

So here is the cut, and I will not soften it: the modern remarriage culture is evil. Not the people—the act, the ideology, the lie. It is hate against the Creator's design. It is the casting away of the soul for the pleasures of the flesh. It lets abandonment be rebranded as "boundaries." It lets adultery be rebranded as "a fresh start." It lets soul-betrayal be rebranded as "healing." It lets remarriage after divorce be dressed up as grace and called good—when it is adultery wearing a wedding gown.

And it is not just a moral failure. It is a violation of the body. Mammals pair-bond. The biology is not a suggestion; it is a design. Oxytocin, attachment, the neural wiring of bonding—the body keeps score. When you tear a pair-bond apart and then pretend you can simply re-pair with another as if the first never happened, you are not just breaking a rule. You are fracturing something embodied, something created. The soul and the body are not separate departments. What you do in the flesh writes itself into the soul.

And do not tell me this is ancient wisdom or the way things have always been. The widespread blessing of remarriage after divorce is a modern invention—barely a century old in its widespread form, accelerating hard only in the last sixty years. It is a civil and religious anesthesia administered so people can commit soul-adultery and call it health. So do not tell me this is tradition. It is a departure. It is a cover. It is a lie with a legal stamp and a bow on it.

And because the veto comes not from a rulebook but from the depth of who I am—soul-depth identity, not institution—I am legally divorced and morally bound. The court says single; my soul says married. Divorce did not free me. It locked me in a cell with the key in my own pocket and welded the door shut with conscience. I am both inmate and warden. The bed is a cell. Friendship is a tripwire. Family gatherings are theaters of what I cannot have. Happiness is a mockery because it cannot include the one thing that would make it whole. I lie alone not because no one would have me, but because saying yes would split me from my own soul. That is not loneliness. That is solitary confinement, and the only "crime" is refusing to commit what I believe is a worse crime against myself.

Nothing can be fully family, fully friend, fully happy, because everything carries an implicit "no" I must enforce. And the jailers are the very people who tell me to move on, remarry, be happy—the ones who pretend there is no prison at all, who call my integrity "dysfunction" and my fidelity "stuck."

That is the reality. No sugar coating. No secular surrender. No compromised faith. No rewriting of biology or divinity. Just the truth: remarriage after divorce is adultery, the modern permission for it is a lie, and the soul that refuses to take the lie will live in a prison the world calls unnecessary and God calls faithful.

Taste it. See it. Own it.

MY STATEMENT OF DEATH

Everything is pain now. What's the point? An empty bed, a paycheck, a routine—no life to be had, just the structure of making money, and that is hollow, just the reminder that death is worse alive, then it would be if I could just be in the ground. Nothing left of the soul. The walking dead, and only the mechanics of death walking day in and day out. Divorce is more evil than murder. Therapy can't touch the soul. Therapy can't rewrite Divine Law. Divine law is universal. It does not consult your culture, your century, your court, your congregation, or your comfort. It does not care what is legal. It does not care what is popular. It does not care what is "healthy." It holds.

So here it is, and I will not soften it.

"A lot of people do it" is not a moral argument. It's a confession. It means you have no reason left except the crowd. And the crowd is not my Creator, not my conscience, and not my Judge. If a lot of people go to hell, then "a lot of people" is not a certificate of safety—it's a casualty report.

The Bible says it plainly: "Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it" (Matthew 7:13–14). "You shall not follow a crowd to do evil" (Exodus 23:2). "Do not conform to the pattern of this world" (Romans 12:2). "There is a way that appears right to a person, but in the end it leads to death" (Proverbs 14:12). "Many are called, but few are chosen" (Matthew 22:14). And Peter says the world will be surprised that you don't join them in the same flood of reckless indulgence—and they will heap abuse on you for it (1 Peter 4:4). The wide road is not safe because it's crowded. It's crowded because it's wide.

Hindu philosophy draws the same line. The Katha Upanishad says the good and the pleasant come to a person; the wise examine both and choose the good over the pleasant, while the fool chooses the pleasant for the sake of profit and pleasure (1.2.1–2). The Bhagavad Gita says better one's own dharma, though imperfectly performed, than the dharma of another well performed; better to die in one's own dharma—the dharma of another brings danger (3.35). It says among thousands of people, one strives for perfection; among those who strive and succeed, one knows the truth (7.3). And it says what is night for all beings is waking for the disciplined soul; what is waking for all beings is night for the sage who sees (2.69). The majority is not the measure of dharma. The crowd is not the seer.

The pagan classical world saw it too. Socrates, in Plato's Crito, says we should not regard what the many say, but what the one who knows about right and wrong says; the many can put you to death, but they cannot make you wise or good. Seneca said nothing is more ruinous to character than to sit in a crowd—vice becomes respectable when it has numbers. Heraclitus said the many do not understand what they meet; they follow custom. The appeal to numbers is ancient, and ancient people already saw through it. A crowd with a civil license is still a crowd. A majority with a wedding gown is still a majority. And a majority can be a mob against the soul.

So when someone says, "A lot of people do it," the only honest answer is: exactly. That's the problem. A lot of people go to hell. A lot of people choose the pleasant over the good. A lot of people follow custom and call it conscience. A lot of people rewrite the gods, nature, and the divine order to make their flesh feel clean. A lot of people take the wide road because it's wide—and they call it health, healing, a fresh start, a new beginning.

They can make adultery legal. They cannot make it not adultery. They can make abandonment respectable. They cannot make it not abandonment. They can make remarriage after divorce normal. They cannot make it not a betrayal of the soul. They can rewrite vows on paper. They cannot rewrite the body, the bond, or the Creator's order. The census of the crowd does not overturn the verdict of the soul.

So don't quote the crowd to me. The crowd is not holy because it's large. The road is not right because it's popular. And "a lot of people do it" is not the voice of wisdom—it's the sound of the wide gate swinging open and the many walking through it. Taste it. See it. Own it. A lot of people go to hell—and the road is wide and well-traveled. I choose the narrow road anyway.

And do not tell me the sacredness of marriage, the indissolubility of the bond, or the soul-destruction of divorce is a Christian invention imposed on a pagan world. The pre-Christian pagan world did not need the Bible to know that divorce tears at the soul. It saw marriage as a sacred bond, a participation in the divine order, and it called the breaking of that bond a desecration—sometimes in words that cut as hard as anything in Scripture.

Empedocles (5th c. BCE) taught that matrimony itself separates the primal unity and makes plurality. To dissolve a marriage was, in his framework, to dissolve something the Deity had cemented. The early Christian writer Hippolytus, quoting Empedocles against the heretic Marcion, says it plainly: "You dissolve marriages that have been cemented by the Deity." That is pagan philosophy calling divorce a rupture of divine work.

The Roman tradition derived or instinctively adopted the theory that marriage was for all time, and the tradition held that Rome knew no divorce for five centuries. When divorce did become common, it was not celebrated as freedom. Seneca denounced this evil with especial vehemence, declaring that divorce in Rome no longer brought with it any shame. The pagan moralist saw the loss of shame as a symptom of moral decay, not progress. And the old Roman standard was blunt: those who dared to break the "Sacred bond" by divorce "were counted infamous in the highest degree." Infamy—not "a fresh start."

The Stoic and Pythagorean currents did not treat marriage as a mere contract. The Stoic Antipater of Tarsus described marriage as a union in which the couple "have not only property and children and the soul in common," but form "a single soul" from the two. Pythagoras taught that "marriage was not an animal union, but a spiritual tie," and his school directed that the married should treat the bond with the utmost purity. If marriage is the forming of one soul from two, then divorce is not a legal transaction. It is a soul-tearing.

The Egyptian and mystery tradition, rooted in the myth of Isis and Osiris, states the principle without flinching: "The good in any true relationship cannot be undone or broken, because by its very nature it belongs to the eternal Sphere of Archetypes. No annulment, no divorce exists in the Web of the Universe." In that vision, divorce is not a new beginning. It is a human fiction that contradicts the cosmic order.

They saw it, and they named it—and they called it infamy, desecration, and the breaking of a divine thing. The modern permission slip for remarriage after divorce is not a return to pagan wisdom. It is a departure from it.

And the compromised faith communities—the ones that rewrite the gods, nature, and the divine order to keep the pews full and the donations flowing—they are complicit. They bless what the soul knows is betrayal. They call my integrity "rigidity." They call my fidelity "stuck." They tell me to move on, to forgive myself, to let God "do a new thing"—as if God's nature changes with the cultural wind. They are not shepherds. They are enablers. They hand out anesthesia so people can commit soul-murder and feel nothing.

So here is the cut, and I will not soften it: the modern remarriage culture is evil. Not the people—the act, the ideology, the lie. It is hate against the Creator's design. It is the casting away of the soul for the pleasures of the flesh. It lets abandonment be rebranded as "boundaries." It lets adultery be rebranded as "a fresh start." It lets soul-betrayal be rebranded as "healing." It lets remarriage after divorce be dressed up as grace and called good—when it is adultery wearing a wedding gown.

And it is not just a moral failure. It is a violation of the body. Mammals pair-bond. The biology is not a suggestion; it is a design. Oxytocin, attachment, the neural wiring of bonding—the body keeps score. When you tear a pair-bond apart and then pretend you can simply re-pair with another as if the first never happened, you are not just breaking a rule. You are fracturing something embodied, something created. The soul and the body are not separate departments. What you do in the flesh writes itself into the soul.

And do not tell me this is ancient wisdom or the way things have always been. The widespread blessing of remarriage after divorce is a modern invention—barely a century old in its widespread form, accelerating hard only in the last sixty years. It is a civil and religious anesthesia administered so people can commit soul-adultery and call it health. So do not tell me this is tradition. It is a departure. It is a cover. It is a lie with a legal stamp and a bow on it.

And because the veto comes not from a rulebook but from the depth of who I am—soul-depth identity, not institution—I am legally divorced and morally bound. The court says single; my soul says married. Divorce did not free me. It locked me in a cell with the key in my own pocket and welded the door shut with conscience. I am both inmate and warden. The bed is a cell. Friendship is a tripwire. Family gatherings are theaters of what I cannot have. Happiness is a mockery because it cannot include the one thing that would make it whole. I lie alone not because no one would have me, but because saying yes would split me from my own soul. That is not loneliness. That is solitary confinement, and the only "crime" is refusing to commit what I believe is a worse crime against myself.

Nothing can be fully family, fully friend, fully happy, because everything carries an implicit "no" I must enforce. And the jailers are the very people who tell me to move on, remarry, be happy—the ones who pretend there is no prison at all, who call my integrity "dysfunction" and my fidelity "stuck."

That is the reality. No sugar coating. No secular surrender. No compromised faith. No rewriting of biology or divinity. Just the truth: remarriage after divorce is adultery, the modern permission for it is a lie, and the soul that refuses to take the lie will live in a prison the world calls unnecessary and God calls faithful.

Taste it. See it. Own it.

killed by a godless people 

RIP- Dustin Irish-Webb 

Nothing can be fully family when the covenant is dead.