When I was a child, everything was exactly how it seemed. Now, God is just a premise, I’m the conclusion waiting to be connected. Validity fleets with every puff of smoke, every sip of surreal secularity. This argument eternal, begging to be breathed. How must this cardinal connection show itself? I am true. God, I would like to be true. Is that enough? This argument is fucked.
…is as good as Arrested Development.