When I was an atheist, my life was really depressing. I would try, try and try again to believe in anything, but I was unable to believe.

As an atheist you learn some things about this world that not a lot of people know, or are willing to know. For one, all religions are human constructs—usually created by patriarchal societies. Second, many scientists in previous eras of history were burned at the stake for simply proving a hypothesis. And third, all religious leaders are merely human—they aren’t messiahs, the resurrection of Christ or Buddha; they’re human and humans aren’t perfect.

Although I highly disagree with human religions (animal ones are okay), I strongly agree with Marx that religion is the opium for the masses—religion serves as a way to keep the common people under control. Let’s face it, religion brings hope to this slowly dying rock we live on. If all the religious people in the world today were to lose their religion right this instant, then how safe would we be walking the down the street?

Spirituality is—to an atheist— just the superior prefrontal cortex of an ape-like creature trying to cope with this world—this pale blue dot on the outer edge of the galaxy.

As you can all tell, I’m the life of the party. In all honesty, atheism was a very depressing thing for someone who has an above average intelligence. The average people follow trends. The new-atheist today, is most likely a trend-follower—most likely a hipster. Nowadays it’s so cool and edgy to call yourself an atheist, but ninety-years ago you could have been stoned to death, and two-hundred years ago you could have been burned alive.

What am I doing with my life now? Nowadays I’m no longer an atheist. I do believe in something, an origin point, a beginning—call it creator if you may. I don’t know; I don’t know what I am actually. I will leave you all with Albert Einstein’s words on religion:

“I’m not an atheist. I don’t think I can call myself a pantheist. The problem involved is too vast for our limited minds. We are in the position of a little child entering a huge library filled with books in many languages. The child knows someone must have written those books. It does not know how. It does not understand the languages in which they are written. The child dimly suspects a mysterious order in the arrangement of the books but doesn’t know what it is. That, it seems to me, is the attitude of even the most intelligent human being toward God. We see the universe marvelously arranged and obeying certain laws only dimly understand these laws.”