Funny how just about everyone has the name Jesus on their lips, yet if I say I saw Jesus you’d be the first to commit me to an insane house
I would say I saw Jesus, but it was the spirit of Ephraim that led me, and the words of Yeshua that saved me, yet salvation is a soliloquy
I shouldn’t be allowed to do a lot of things. Yet freedom has perfected craft. They seek my craft with an empty heart, and fill the gaps with selfish knowledge.
Now craft knows not Salem, and Salem is devoid of Yehu. The big white whale is now a demon for trying to protect his own, and moby’s story is no better than an ignorant matrix trilogy
The writers, the writers! The storytellers are liars, no more than vanity and vain theories. Making us chasers of chaos, for a single butterfly effect to complete perfection.
If only we knew, if only we knew! We would cry out for a glimpse of your faith.
