for those who can still get into heaven

Isn't it funny, how much weight we put on things that don't really matter?

I'm looking for God, too, Anis, I'm looking for him in books with a fine layer of dust settled over the covers. I look for him in smoke and mirrors, I look for him in tears and blood. I'm looking for God when I drive over the speed limit, I look for him when I see the flash of a camera, and I look for him when I see the defeated slump of a teenager's shoulders.

If this is all that there is to it, then I don't know for how long I can keep looking. Is this it? I've seen the edge of the horizon and it is nothing but a reflection.

It's windy and I'm sitting on my roof right now, thinking about life and how I need to be satisfied with what I see in the mirror in order to be happy. I'm thinking about why it's so necessary that I curl my hair, or that my friends like my outfit. I need to know if this is how it's always going to be.

I need the beach and salty air. I can't breathe in this town anymore. I've known these people for too long, and seen the same thing for days and days. I'm looking for God and he isn't here. He's sitting on a beach towel in Santa Monica. He's browsing a record store in Portland. He's walking down Broadway in New York City. He's in the wind and the wind is neverending.

I'm an atheist and I'm looking for God everywhere, too, Anis, I'm looking for him in eighth grade science classes and hostile subreddits. I don't want to be an atheist but the weight of a lie is breaking my back, Anis. I miss when I was fourteen and I thought that I was going to be famous. I miss it when my hair was long and I felt like a pretty girl. I miss the years that none of us remember.

Why aren't things built to last?