Falling out of favour...

I had this really fucking weird dream last night. I was in this huge glass tumbler that was filling up with water and I couldn’t climb out no matter what I tried. The water rose to the level of my chin then stopped. A voice shouted at me asking me to say my name and the voice would check with God (yeah, that guy) and then maybe he could save me. I gave my name and then waited as whoever the voice was went off to check me out on The Database. Now the shitty part; according to God (yeah, that guy), Stephen Mwangi does not exist.

I was like WHAT?!

I know that I’m a creepy little shit but I mean, how low am I that God (yeah, that guy) does not have me on His List? That’s cold man. So I stayed in the big glass and the water started to rise again. Lucky for me I woke up before I drowned.
If anything, this experience has taught me one thing: Fuck God (yeah, that guy). I said it. Fuck him in the highest. What shit is this? He’s supposed to be this all loving, all benevolent motherfucker but…this? Screw him and his right hand man. Okay scratch Jesus; he’s cool, turned water into Keroche. Anybody who can do that is good in my book.


Or maybe He was getting back at me for visiting that brothel on Sunday.