It's a very strange feeling to know that on some day we will die. Disappear. It is not known - where, is drought - how, it is not known - when. This thought, which seems to be actual for a living being, is not at all significant in the general picture of life. Someone jumps with a skipping rope, someone is wrapped in a scarf, and someone earns the best doctors - and everyone calls it a way of life. And someone even plunges into the "life after", subtracting details about it in all sorts of fantasies of his predecessors. Any inconsistencies and uncomfortable moments are emotionally replaced by conviction, and "faith" arises. The very weapons that mankind drives away any thought of its perishable and unpredictable existence. This weapon is sharp - it began to sharpen, from the moment when the first man hit his fellow tribe. For centuries, they have been beating them for centuries under the blows of "faith," but the unpredictability of being and unknown have remained unresolved, misunderstood and tormented.