Spin off of the original. We should all be counting sheep? More like counting years - years until Claustrophobia doesn't mean anything and everyone gets dirty. I hope, for your sake, God doesn't see right through you. The transparent being. What a laugh. What a cry.
Why I would try this on a Sunday, I haven't a clue. Perhaps it's my subconscious trying to get me to confess, only I haven't anything to confess. Chris is telling me that everyone has something to confess, and I wonder if maybe my confession is living too freely. Could my pride really be my great sin, my great condemner? Is it wrong of me to be so proud?
Chris is telling me that sacraficing my happiness for eternal life is a coward's move. Am I prepared for this, this great opening of the skies and splitting of the ground? Would they : the angels and demons : fight for my ownership? I doubt it.
And so begins the countdown to the day of reckoning. I apologize for something so ridiculous.
No comments:
Post a Comment