I am at that age, where you start to question everything. Back to square one. Again. It doesn't end at nursery level...we continue when our teenage years come to an end and reality kicks in. When we realise we don't know it all, we see our parents as vulnerable, we admit they know something but not everything. You've left uni, you're jobless and you're trying to navigate your way through life and with it comes questions. Philosophical ones, unanswered ones, difficult ones.

One of the questions I ask often, stems from my obsession with identity opening other viaducts of argument and conversation. It's a continuous internal struggle of insecurities that I am constantly trying to pummle into the ground...along with my embarrassing moments. Whatever excuse I try to invent or whatever remedy I try and plaster this gaping internal wound with, I find myself questioning. It's become almost impossible to find a sense of satisfaction in an equally inadequate world. I don't even know who to ask. I haven't attempted God because I am told, there are questions God cannot answer and that maybe I should wait until I get to heaven and all  will be revealed then. But how can i even think of a God to question when I'm not even sure I follow a God. Do i believe in Him? Sometimes I think God is a made-up word, a huge mysterious cover up to hide our lack of knowledge. I've gotten to the point where I am grateful for the faith and disgusted by it at the same time (the Christian faith).

Every once in a while, the being, universe, creator, energy or all knowing omnipresent creature matters to me. I ask myself, "Why don't I pray?", "How do I acknowledge Him/It?" It's a tiring task to follow a religion. It's illogical and can only be tapped into or understood when you choose to believe or take on some type of spiritual responsibility. But I am not searching for some greater truth, I am trying to get on with life. Some say, the blueprint to life, desinity and your ultimate purpose lies within this European painted lie they sold to us, written in two books that was shoved down my throat in Sunday school. I listened intentively to this carefully constructed story. Brainwashed into thinking this was all there was and everything else should not be considered just in case my faith was swayed. Well now! I have read some things and my faith has swayed, the inevitable has been set into motion and I am comfortable.

I can't even summon my mother to arrange a marraige for me. How would she describe her daughter? A non-practising Christian, who frequently fornicates and believes in the God before Judaism, Islam and Christianity?

I might aswell form my own religion. That's borderline charismatic!

I am neither an agnostic or an atheist, but somewhere in between with an actual belief in God. Hence, I am not even in-between. Reminds me of a guardian article, written by Andrew Brown, which commented on the different types of atheism. These categories have been recently created to fit in these new forms of atheism. To be honest, I felt the term 'intellectual atheist' was insulting to the other categories. Does it matter what box I fit into? I may not even qualify in any category.   I just feel a need to have a description to describe what my faith status is because my very beautiful cultural familia can't seem to accept my views or my belief system. I am discovering it myself, so how could I possibly explain what it is?