Kind of a story.

[Ink]

Thanks to my loving parents I was not indoctrinated into any particular religion, I was left to figure out my beliefs or lack thereof. Now I was never a believer, but I was never outspoken either, I thought what I thought, and let the religious people what they think.

It wasn’t until high school that I really began to listen to what the religion teachers were teaching, and it was then that I came to the conclusion (I’m sure many of you came to the same conclusion) that God and religion in general, are bullshit. You know the typical, “God is sexist, racist, xenophobic, etc, etc..!” realisation. So I began to look for some more literature that would satisfy my atheistic hunger.

I searched the world for many years collecting ancient works of Greek philosophers, scouring old cluttered libraries, and questioning the great intellectual thinkers of the time.

Okay, I looked on Google, and read and old copy of the Origin of Species. But the point is, I was content with my non-belief, I was learning and happy. But I still didn’t feel the need to openly question religious people, not until a fateful RE class, one grey December morn. (Cue foreboding music)

Now being a bit of a rebel at 17, I went and got myself tattooed, not a small one mind you, I went all out and got a sleeve (shoulder to wrist). So here I am in RE class, happy as could be with my new artwork. So what does the teacher do you ask, well he gets up in front of the class with a sad look on his face and announces that I’m going to hell, and unlike the rest of the students, I can’t be saved, unless of course I get me tattoos removed…

So long story short, from then on I have become far more outspoken about my ‘non-beliefs’, questioning theists wherever I can.

Oh, and sorry for the long and grammatically incorrect rant…