Do not bomb, and you shall not be bombed.
A simple commandment, it would seem.
Almost obvious.
Even too obvious for a world that very much likes to ignore obvious things first, and then heroically clean up the consequences.
A human being is a strange creature.
First he throws a stone into the world.
Then he is surprised that the world did not send him a bouquet of daisies in return.
First he speaks roughly.
Then he takes offense at roughness.
First he breaks someone else’s boundaries.
Then he complains that someone came too close to his own.
First he bombs.
Then he is outraged that something arrived back.
And every time there is a beautiful explanation.
"I had no choice."
"They started it."
"I was only defending myself."
"They have combat mosquitoes."
"This is different."
"You do not understand the whole situation."
"If they behaved normally, I would not have had to do this."
A person can always find something to cover his aggression with.
The mind is a great specialist in this work: in five minutes it can dress any rudeness as a noble mission, any revenge as the restoration of justice, any inner explosion as the defense of spiritual borders.
And killing as negative salvation.
But the law is simple.
What a person releases into the world, sooner or later becomes the atmosphere in which he himself lives.
Not always literally.
Not always at once.
Not always from the same people.
But if there is constant war inside, one day a person notices that even the silence around him somehow smells of gunpowder.
Do not bomb, and you shall not be bombed.
And if you already want very much to bomb, stop at least for a minute and ask yourself:
"Am I defending truth right now — or am I simply unable to endure my own irritation?"
Sometimes this question is enough for the shell to remain in storage.
And that, my friends, is already a small truce...
