I was on some kind of a never ending silent treatment as if somehow God would actually read my blog and somehow respond to me—among everything else going on in this mad, mad world, including and not limited what seemed like the near blanket agreement that if one was to believe in God then it was merely a delusion which at best should be considered a form of mental illness…
“Got some attachments and baggage I’m working on leaving.”
“Sounds of the city on Capital Hill,
I wore cowboy boots
and did line dances on the bar
where the time went slow
while I learned to drink PBR.”
Here’s looking at you, Rosie.
You thought you could distract me from my homework? I’m going after the belly of the beast, and I couldn’t be more hungry. You carry the blood of my brothers, sisters, prophets and prophetesses.
Following this I saw another Angel descend from Heaven:
His authority was immense,
his glory flooded earth with brightness,
his voice thunderous:
“Ruined, ruined, Great Babylon, ruined!
A ghost town for demons is all that’s left!
A garrison of carrion spirits,
garrison of loathsome, carrion birds.
All nations drank the wild wine of her whoring;
kings of the earth went whoring with her;
entrepreneurs made millions exploiting her.”
Just then I heard another shout out of Heaven:
Get out, my people, as fast as you can,
so you don’t get mixed up in her sins,
so you don’t get caught in her doom.
Her sins stink to high Heaven;
God has remembered every evil she’s done.
Give her back what she’s given,
double what she’s doubled in her works,
double the recipe in the cup she mixed;
Bring her flaunting and wild ways
to torment and tears.
Because she gloated,
“I’m queen over all, and no widow,
never a tear on my face,”
In one day, disasters will crush her—
death, heartbreak, and famine—
Then she’ll be burned by fire,
because God, the Strong God
who judges her, has had enough.
I am strengthened by fortified wine, I nibble on dry bread and think of the dust which composes my flesh, upon which you tread with scaled measure.
A girl and her kite, following the lead of a boy who decided to fly his and brought her holy spirit while she bathed thinking she was alone in the world.
Time to fly guys.
I am Christian.
I’ve been here before this ain’t a battle, this is war
Word to Boonie, I make salat like a Sunni
You won’t find me in the “Kingdom Hall” on Sunday, as I no longer confuse being a Christian with choosing a Religion.