Where is our creator? Who can tell me where He is? If you’ve really met him or her, please tell me where they live, the colour of their house and the key that unlocks all answers. I beg of you, for God’s sake. Where is he, she, or it? Should I fear them? What with my way of life, my habits? Have I already repented? Are my bad friends and me persona non grata?
Who stole my watch? And why did the lights die at the same time? It’s all so surreal. I hide away in the night and wait patiently for morning to come. Maybe someone will knock on my door tomorrow, someone who can finally tell me how things work and gives me all documents and convincing evidence I need.
It probably won’t be an atheist who brings that message, because they normally deny mysteries. Come on, is it really Allah? Or Jesus? Or Buddha, who just wanted to be lazy and spent his days sitting under a tree?
Is it the man in the white cloak with all the glamour & glitter of the Vatican? If you’re really there it’s about time you came to us. Don’t you see what kind of misery we suffer, how we test our weapons in poor countries, where children are used as human shields?
Entire civilisations are permanently on the run from people who don’t know any better and think they can claim a so-called truth. Don’t you see that our digital age only serves to estrange us further from each other? And if you see it and you just keep silent, is it because you’re ashamed? Or is our human brain just not suited to live in uncertainty, without a compass, without approval and without the foolish, all-destroying dual concept of heaven and hell? Black and white, poor and rich, is that religious? I don’t know anymore, I don’t believe in anything anymore. Do I even exist? Maybe it turns out that this entire world is a hologram or a video game from another dimension.
Could it be a mental construction to fill the bending of time, like Ramses sang about cosmic lingering in time? Oh, cosmos! I have absolutely no idea how immense you are, whether it’s finite or whether we’re shrinking or expanding. Oh, cosmos! I, as a minuscule speck of dust in eternity, I ask you again: who is it? And if you know, show us and let us feel. Now, if you please! I won’t be here tomorrow.