något jag fann, något jag själv skrivit. på engelska?
And there I sat.
Like a proud man, with swedish tobacco under my lip, and a cheap beer in my hand.
My surroundings didn't have the word exclusive written all over it; ikea-furnitures and a playboy-girl on the wall. But it was home, in my own bachelor palace.
The tobacco and the beer can, for a while, enchant our senses. It feels fucking great, to be simple.
But suddenly, it isn't that cool anymore.
Why do I sit here with this beer, all by myself?
- We all got our own definition to that question, God said.
Don't you have all the answers?
- Hell no! I don't ask any questions, and I don't answer them either. I'm just sitting here, having a bud and thinking of a new paradox.
If God is almighty, does he then have the ability to create a stone that is so big that he can't lift it up?
I once said that to a religious person. "I don't answer paradoxes", he said.
What the fuck?
The whole bible is a paradox, your mother is a paradox, the whole world and all humans behavior is a paradox!
