Chapter 1
I decided to write a book this morning. It sort of has a plot, but its still in progress in my mind. It does not have a title yet. I will post chapter by chapter as I write them. Here is the first.
I took my last drag and put out the cigarette on a trail of ants. 8 wounded. 4 casualties. The rest forgot where they were going and how to get there.
It felt like I was overshadowing normandy on d-day
The hammer falls on whomever I please. I am God. I am the justice. I decapitate heads and sever limbs. They limp, they scatter, and they die.
I am the right. Not-me is the wrong.
The search for God is absurd if we end up defining Him as whatever we want Him to be. I have decided that if it is I who decides what God is, then I must have control over Him. I must be Him. The salvation. The judgment. The forgiveness. The wrath.
I have been enlightened, for mine eyes have seen the glory of me.
I am all, therefor I know all. None believe my omniscience. No one ever stopped to think that God might be having a difficult time remembering everything. Memory is at war with the intellect. What you know never equals what you remember.
And trust me, God has a load of shit to remember.
There are those few memories that I can't let go of. These few are burned on my mind, and they are all I have to help me find out how i got here.
"You're so nice. Johnny, I think you're the nicest person I have ever met."
I don't know who said that to me. Her voice is crystal clear in my head, but my infinite mind cant give her a face. Whoever it was must have met a whole shit-load of fucked up people if she thought I was the nicest one.
God isnt nice. God is sympathetic, and therefor merciful. How does it make you feel to know that God pities you?
Was that really my name? Was it Johnny? Trivial information like this isn't worth knowing or remembering. I had a name that was given to me, and that is all I need to know to not give a shit about what my name was.
You cant just call God whatever you want. The almighty Johnny, Johnny Christ, and the holy Johnny. Ridiculous at best.
I took my last drag and put out the cigarette on a trail of ants. 8 wounded. 4 casualties. The rest forgot where they were going and how to get there.
It felt like I was overshadowing normandy on d-day
The hammer falls on whomever I please. I am God. I am the justice. I decapitate heads and sever limbs. They limp, they scatter, and they die.
I am the right. Not-me is the wrong.
The search for God is absurd if we end up defining Him as whatever we want Him to be. I have decided that if it is I who decides what God is, then I must have control over Him. I must be Him. The salvation. The judgment. The forgiveness. The wrath.
I have been enlightened, for mine eyes have seen the glory of me.
I am all, therefor I know all. None believe my omniscience. No one ever stopped to think that God might be having a difficult time remembering everything. Memory is at war with the intellect. What you know never equals what you remember.
And trust me, God has a load of shit to remember.
There are those few memories that I can't let go of. These few are burned on my mind, and they are all I have to help me find out how i got here.
"You're so nice. Johnny, I think you're the nicest person I have ever met."
I don't know who said that to me. Her voice is crystal clear in my head, but my infinite mind cant give her a face. Whoever it was must have met a whole shit-load of fucked up people if she thought I was the nicest one.
God isnt nice. God is sympathetic, and therefor merciful. How does it make you feel to know that God pities you?
Was that really my name? Was it Johnny? Trivial information like this isn't worth knowing or remembering. I had a name that was given to me, and that is all I need to know to not give a shit about what my name was.
You cant just call God whatever you want. The almighty Johnny, Johnny Christ, and the holy Johnny. Ridiculous at best.