You own it.
That is to say, YOU are the one who decides what is right and what is wrong.
Now it's odd to realize that the so-called father of faith, Abraham "made the truth his own" in condemning what he thought this BEING was planning on doing to the residents of Sodom (including his own self-absorbed whiney nephew Lot) with the words "is the judge of all the earth not going to do what is right?" are words which meditating on would eventually lead me to condemn all religion including any BEING which may or may not be behind it all.
Why?
Because in "making the Truth my own" I learned to reject power as the basis for moral authority, and this power necessarily included intelligence. Being intelligent doesn't make one "morally upright" and now I know this is because the measuring rod for morality is inescapably in my own hands as it has always been.
It was only through self deception that I was led to believe that I had faith in a morality which extended beyond me, or that this morality had any meaning at all for me.
It can't because I have to be the judge, and right now, after reading everything I can get my hands on in the way of any deity-based and non-deity based explanations for the state of the world I'm left with a negative judgement of this BEING if it even exists.
I can't even make up a scenario that would allow me to create a universe like the one we live in predicated as it is on carnivorous behavior and this even at the level of bacteria. What does it matter if violence is done if it is done even at the cellular level?
Life eating and ending life in order to live seems an indefensible moral choice to make if one were capable of choosing otherwise if one just happened to be a BEING powerful enough to do so.
This makes me look askance in a very moral way at deity-based systems as a system based upon a moral monstrosity and those adherents as morally perverted, albeit like me without knowing they are.
It's a terrible, terrible thing which has been done here it seems to me and the only thing I can continue to do is try to understand how this thing came to be.
And, while I was engaging in the necessary futility of thinking about all this I was also brooding on my own fate and I wrote this ...
Psychological sadness of getting older
Knowing too much and yet not enough
Seeing others lose their way
Seeing others pass
Seeing the hope in others die
Seeing your own hope die
Watching others die
Looking backwards like you used to look forwards
Farther and farther into the past
Afraid to look forward, it's too close and black
Lost pets, lost friends, lost family and lovers
Lovers grown old
No one left to share with
Realizing what others before you realized
Screaming out to the young, but your muffled voice
Just doesn't come through
It's still me!
It's still me!
I'm still here!
And everything goes on
Without you while you're still here
A little oblivion wouldn't hurt, you think
A little forgetfulness
A little preoccupation
A little bit of quiet
And time
Just runs
Out