I do believe in an absolute, indestructible and eternal question mark, that maybe has some qualities of a "being" and some qualities of a "theory of everything" - and a lot of implications for my life - and because Iīm such a lazy person, and because I grew up under western influence, I tend to call it (much shorter): God.

How did I reach this point?

I was never forced and I never forced myself into "faith" or a particular faith system. Actually - for me - it has nothing to do with faith. Iīve no idea, why people can have faith, or how this faith-thing works. I never pray and I donīt go to church.

In the end itīs a long and personal story, with some similarities to the story, that can be found in a book: "The Man without Qualities" - "Der Mann ohne Eigenschaften".

Itīs the story of a mathematician, who has lost his faith in the worldly world and finally he makes a mystic attempt. It ends with a very clear and detailed description of this special condition.. Well, actually the book doesnīt end. Musil unfortunately died in 1942 after writing on this book for approximately twenty years.

After I somehow finished this book, I wanted to write a screenplay. It somehow turned into a mystic experience, that lasted for seven days. Very strange, more like translating an abstract message into a text - instead of inventing it.

Maybe I could describe it like this: some events in my life remained in my memory, some books or pieces of art, movies etc. impressed me more than others. For a long time all these experiences remained unconnected with each other: like accidents.
Somehow in this mystic period "everything", all the details, seemed to have a big meeting in my head, they arranged in a way, that - for the first time - made sense.

I felt a huge contrast between the ordinary, real world - as it is, and a possible world - the world as it should be according to the "question mark", I mentioned above.

This happened almost ten years ago, but it changed my life completely.
I couldnīt say, that it became more easy and in a certain way the last ten years could be described as a series of attempts to convince myself, that these seven days were just a period of inspiration.

Well long story, short sense:
Mysticism is for me something very real, not mysterious. All my rational thoughts come to exactly the same conclusions. But what can I do with something that weighs so heavy?

I think, a life, according to what S. Freud called "the principle of reality" will make you probably more happy. Itīs also much more practical.
Trust your genes! Just leave the difficult decisions to your DNA!
For me unfortunately itīs probably too late. Maybe I do belong to a crazy species, that should have died out a long time ago