There’s a boy living in my head.
He’s quiet and I hardly ever hear from him anymore. But sometimes when I’m talking to someone he starts banging on my skull and won’t let up until I let him speak his piece. Then he tells them exactly what they need to hear, in the terms of a religion that I no longer believe. He speaks without forethought or consideration, from somewhere deep inside. And then he retires back to wherever it is he spends his time.
The most convincing evidence I have that God might exist after all is the fact that he doesn’t seem to give a fig whether I believe in Him when He decides to talk to someone through me.
Either that, or I’m fucking nuts.