I believe in me, but do you believe in me? You are reading this but how do you know if it's really from me? You believe in me because you choose to believe in me. Others can tell you that I exist but you can still not believe in me. Others can tell you that they have experienced being in my presence, but you can doubt them. Books can be written about me but you still doubt. I can offer you all the love there is to offer but you can reject it. I can show you things I have made with my hands, but you still doubt. Why are you so distrustful? How can you hate me but never talk to me or even believe in me? Even though you don't believe in me, you blame me for all the bad things in your life including the bad you've created. How can life exist unless it starts as life?
((Does this sound like someone else you may have heard about?))
