No doubt I shall be as misunderstood now as I have always been. That’s perfectly fine. I like it like that. It suits me well. And I sit here now, a guest blogger on Mistress Savannah’s webpage. What can I say? I’m a long-time fan.
You there. I am perfectly sure that you shall deny my words, now. Since when did you decide that I said what you wanted to hear? At what point did my words become as redundant as I am? When were they twisted to suit your purpose?
At what point did murder in the name of any myriad number of Gods and causes become yet another day at the office? At what point did the destruction of home and property become a God-given right? Oh. It became one the moment you decided that you could do a better job than your own God and set yourself up in that Deity’s stead.
At what point did you decide that you know best? At what point did you conclude that those around you are all delusional while you, alone, hold the real knowledge? I’m so sorry you feel that way. Let me know how that works for you.
When did blame become the next big fad? None of this could possibly be your fault. Oh. I know. Let’s play a game of ‘blame the victim’. It’s one of my favourites.
“If only she…”
“He was the one who…”
“If they had…”
“What do you think?”
Here’s a hint. You gave up hearing what I actually think quite some time ago. It doesn’t suit your purpose now, does it? How dreadfully inconvenient for you. But free will is just that and unfortunately that includes the ability to ignore what does not suit your needs at the time.
I have heard it all. I have seen it all. To say that I am disgusted with all I have learned would have to be the understatement of several eons if there ever was one.
At what point did you think that you were right?
At what point did aggression become the norm? When did you decide that coercing those you claim to love, using any method necessary, was the best idea you ever had?
Oh, I have heard it all now. Children should be cherished, not crushed into a submission they have no hope of combatting. The beatings continue. Every day. Every single day. “I brought you into this world. I can take you out of it”. Oops. Playing ‘Death’ now are we? Playing God has obviously bored you to tears. Ever thought of taking up a better hobby? I hear that drive-by shootings can be just random enough to be considered fun.
And, when it becomes all too hard; oh so very, very hard there is always refuge to be sought in ‘pharmaceuticals’. Nothing like a dose of drug-induced psychosis to mix things up a little and provide a bright ray of sunshine in your otherwise pathetic existence.
Well, I have had enough. When I see (and I do) the carnage you have wreaked on every single level of existence there is little left to look forward to except, perhaps, the end of days. I am hard pressed to see any beauty left in this forsaken place. But I need only look at my wife to see enough beauty to fill a myriad galaxies. I live for her smile now. It fills me with utter joy. Ahh. If only she would smile more often. But she is as misunderstood as I am.