And you know why you want change.  Why you want to make your world what you are.  It was why David learned something from Schultz, a Nazi, someone seemingly so different, and why he talked about him in his journals—you just want to be happy.  And in talking to Schultz David learned how what we want can be used for ugly things, in the story of Schultz’s family and how he grew up under the rising shadow of Hitler.  You just don’t want guilt.  You don’t want to feel guilty.  To make your world what you are, guilt is a part of it, and you can’t be happy feeling guilty.  That’s when you need something and you’ll listen to anyone promising they can offer it.  That’s when you need a scapegoat…  They say you are what you eat.  There’s some truth to that.  Not just in actual diet, actual food and how that digests, but in what you feed your mind.  Sometimes you witness things you never feel yourself capable of doing, and as you grow from a child to an adult you gather information about this, different interpretations to actions and their cause—what they really mean.  And you change.  Maybe not in how you do things, but in why you do them, how you perceive them—the various routines of a normal day.  And you create a belief system—reasons for this or that, reasons for why you do this or that—no drama really involved in it.  Just time and natural forces telling you what to think.  And just as there are bad diets that lead to bad health, there are bad mind diets.  Your purity not lost in experiencing ideas of deeds you never felt yourself capable of doing, but in how you grow hungry for it.  You grow hungry for these things, these bad things.  Imagining the different interpretations to actions based on the knowledge it provides—all the possible dirty reasons behind everything, behind every seemingly simple work.  And by wanting them you condone their existence.  You supply the demand for it.  The demand for dirt.  Dirt you were never afraid of as a child…  And maybe you really aren’t what you eat.  You just become what you want, and people find power in this.  They find power in providing that supply and tricking you into wanting it.  For then they got you.  Becoming that time and natural force—telling you what to think.  Telling you what to think and you not even knowing it…  That’s when you need a scapegoat.  You need some sort of release valve, some sort of way out from all this—this illusion, when you have waking moments wondering who told you, who told you how to make your world what you are, and you need a different kind of food—you need body and blood, bread and wine.  You need to consume this into yourself as some sort of symbol of atonement…  People find power in this too—discernment needed here, in motivation.  For if you feed on good things you know.  You know the gullible trick.  In how easy it is to lose your own morality in judging other’s.  That subtle shift.  When you project on others all those bad things you feel you’re never capable of doing.  You would never do them, but somehow you know of them, you’ve learned about them along the way, in your own history of poisoned apples you were given to feed upon in the past—and you become righteous, kissed by the betrayal of the beauty where you once slumbered.  That beauty where you once looked on others and thought them innocent, as innocent as you, and you loved—you felt loved just as you believed other people were loved…  Schultz had a father, broken by the crippled German economy after World War One, his business as a shoemaker in Munich nearly gone, barely enough to support his family.  And he was tired.  He was a tired old man scraping by to provide for his wife and Schultz’s two other siblings when Hitler came to power…

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