[John sounds tired. Pained. He's been quiet for a while now, but he's breaking his silence to try and lift his own spirits. It sort of works...]Once, I believed God could only create. That He could just bring life. But our existence isn't just life. It's hardships, you see. So much hardship packed into a shitty, dented can with a pretty label. Why ( Read more... )

Were you faithful to God, angels of such rebellious natures? Did heaven spit you out, while hell refused you? We were snatched up, denied our lives and made blind to the worlds we came from. And here we sit, letting our baser urges take us over. Oh yes, I know that it could be worse. I've seen worse ( Read more... )

[He's found himself a place to sit and the background noise is minimal.] Such a Sunday. And what beautiful scenery we have to take in. Sergeant, you believe yourself a man of God, do you not? Perhaps you would like to join me at a service this evening?

[He pauses to take a small drink.]

German...such a wonderful language, as well.

It makes me wonder ( Read more... )

Trapped in some comedic version of Hell. Unfortunately, I find nothing funny at all about this. There is nothing amusing about it. It's sickening to see, frankly, what humanity sinks to when presented with such conditions. Lies and deception. God would be ashamed of His creatures.

It seems this is my lot. My punishment. And I will bear that cross ( Read more... )