It seems to me that the years between eighteen and twenty-eight are the hardest, psychologically. It’s then you realize this is make or break, you no longer have the excuse of youth, and it is time to become an adult – but you are not ready.
I believe in science. I believe in evolution. I believe in Nate Silver and Neil deGrasse Tyson and Christopher Hitchens, although I do admit, he could be kind of an asshole. I cannot get behind some supreme being who weighs in on the Tony awards while a million people get whacked with machetes. I don’t believe a billion Indians are going to hell, I don’t think we get cancer to learn life lessons, and I don’t believe that people die young because God wants another angel. I think it’s just bullshit, and on some level, I think we all know that… I understand that religion makes it easier to deal with all the random, shitty things that happen to us, and I wish I could get on that ride, I’m sure I would be happier… but I can’t. Feelings aren’t enough. I need it to be real.