A Candid Dairy of Disbelief

Wednesday 12th August 2015

My consciousness is limited to the brief present, and the long gone yesterdays feel just like any other passing thought, faintly accompanied by distant imagery. I say this because I don’t remember myself feeling like a devout believer of Islam, or remember the thought process of having a unwavering god belief. To the people around me I still act very much like a Muslim, but deep inside a silent revolution has conquested my faith. God is but mere idea now, and I don’t not fear it, In fact I have overcome it.

Friday 21th August 2015

I bowed down to it, I raised my hands in its utterance and cried out to it. I remembered its name in the sorrowful moments of life, and gleefully smiled to the distant heavens above; beholden by the unseen wonder of it.

I believed in it wholeheartedly, as I devoutly and routinely pressed my head down on barren floors; I willingly submitted to it. I was its dutiful slave, it was my curtained master.

Sunday 30th August 2015

As pious as one may be, you refuse to manifest into reality. How ever much I need it, you will never comfort me. You will never reassure me of the supposedly grandiose kingdom to come.

You are lodged in the puzzling chambers of our complex mind, you are just an idea, an idea at a loss for the war within.

You are a poison that feeds furiously in depths of our mind, gently suckling away our sceptic thoughts. You are falsehood cloaked as absolute truth, leaving the mind in a state of ever-some subjugation. I pity the “pious” servitude of being a Muslim.

Thursday 10th September 2015

If god is compassionate than why doesn’t he warm the sickly cold bodies who sleep out in harsh rainy nights of September? They desperately curl their torn bodies like feeble children on rough piece of wet cardboard, sleeping terrified in the devilish shadows and foul alleys of the city. How compassionate of thee! How dare you demand the submission of the weak, the poor and the hungry. They need not be grateful for a self centred piece of shit as a God.

Why do you await their sluggish death? None should have to suffer a second if you watch over our misery. You are all powerful and all-knowing but with all the baggage of being a celestial ass, I say fuck your everlasting peace and love.

I sincerely hate you.

Friday 11th September 2015

Why don’t you fill the hearts of the lost with joy? They stand on the edge of towering steel bridges as they momentarily pause, and gallantly look toward their glistening blue watery end; briefly awaiting your divine interventions.

“The warm flames will send us away from these wretched nights” they howl into the darkening oblivion.

Monday 5th October 2015

Who the fuck are you to bow down to? Why do they raise their miserable heads to cracked ceiling of the sanctuary of this scanty house of yours. As orderly, they pitifully ask to be forgiven for being imperfect and ungodly. Do you not see how unworthy of worship you are?

Tuesday 13th October 2015

The truthfulness of you is not truth as truth is known to be, you cannot be observed, measured or tested. You are merely a figment of their imagination, you are a subjective experience bound by their own delusive thoughts.

Wednesday 14th October 2015

The existence of a you lacks any certainty, you are merely a childish speculation on the origin of our reality.

Books pathetically speak for you, you remain absent, silent in the tiresome debate for your existence.

Tuesday 27th October 2015

I will not waste my life on half baked “truths” from a childish age. I will not miserably worship a mad God that supposedly exist but plays hide and seek with its creation. A God that must know that there is a narrowing thin line between that which is invisible and that which doesn't exist.

A God that puts on a eye popping masterpiece for a magic show without a front seat for technology to enjoy any of it.

A God that hides behind the protective shrouds of the smoky clouds, cowardly demanding worship from a safe distance.

A God that will brutally punish me for not holding the unreasonable unjustified belief, even though its unapparent existence will remains questionable as long as it stays stubbornly put.

A God that creates evil, but blames it on the devil. It is he who is evil, it he who is the source of Dahmer’s wickedness.

A God that must have know that I would rightfully refuse to worship supposed “truths” that stand on mere nothingness.

A God that must have known that i would have found him to be as much false as any other fables of god.

And yet here we are.

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