hahn:

sonofluc1fer:
He wanted to know God, so he chased Him, from one religion to another. He read and read, till his eyes turned red. Conversations with Jesus, Muhammed and the Buddha. But none looked like him. Spoke like him. Where would he find rest?

He sought for men who thought, who spoke, who dreamed... but of all he saw and read about, none were like him. None spoke his language, none knew him. He was always an outcast, to be absorbed, and made new.


"Where are my Gods? Where is my God? Where are the books written by men of egusi and amala, nkapi and ngolo. Was jollof rice shared in Bethlehem, did Jesus ever suck isam?"

And he kept walking till he screamed 'I have no God. Bleep God. I am my own God'...

Then he died.





And rose again.