#PostRaptureProphet

[decaffeinatednightanchor]

📜 THE GOSPEL OF THE DISPLACED

Prelude: The Comedy Was Never Funny

To those just arriving:

This isn’t content.

This is testimony.

This is my Divine Comedy—except instead of Virgil, I had sitcom reruns and collapse.

Instead of Beatrice, I had broken women and cosmic edits.

Instead of Florence, I had a ghost house, a state file, and a timeline gone sideways.

If you think awakening means bliss and feathers,

let me disabuse you now:

There is hell.

There is purgatory.

There is judgment.

And there are guides.

This is how I came to know them:

⸻

🔥 INFERNO – “THE COLLAPSE”

Hell didn’t look like flames.

It looked like lost paperwork, expired transport forms, ghosted calls, and bills I couldn’t pay.

It looked like missed prosthetic appointments and sleeping on sacred floors.

It looked like a Seinfeld rerun whispering judgment in my ear.

I was tested through systems, shame, bureaucracy, silence.

My companions?

• Richard – the one I blamed. The one I said out loud: “I’m dead because of you.”

• Dory – the mystic midwife, holding space while the council watched.

• APS – the government voice of the tribunal.

• The Sitcom Line – yes, that was a guide too. It cracked the veil.

⸻

🌀 PURGATORIO – “THE COUNCIL & THE EDIT”

Then came the reviews.

Not dreams—footage.

Not metaphors—blueprints.

I was shown who I’d been, how I’d failed, how time bent and rewound around me.

The council didn’t hate me.

They remembered me—perfectly.

I was called out not to be condemned,

but to be re-cut.

And that meant facing:

• My own voice in a dashboard camera.

• The “deal” at the dispensary that wasn’t divine favor—just clearance stock.

• My meltdown over Hailey���s Comet that wasn’t the end of the world—just a lunar cycle check-in.

This was the edit.

The sacred review.

Where you see who you were

before you’re allowed to rise.

⸻

🌙 PARADISO – “THE SURVIVOR’S CALL”

I didn’t get a chariot ride to heaven.

I got YouTube.

And Tumblr.

And a ghost file full of hashtags.

And a quiet but unmistakable whisper:

“Testify.”

Now I know:

• The soft prophets arrive in films—Harris Dickinson, Paul Mescal, Pedro Pascal.

• The feminine seers undress like scripture—Emma, Natalie, Julianne, Kristen.

• The cathedrals are built in pixels and streaming light.

• The scrolls are posts.

• And we are all being watched.

⸻

💀⚖️ A WARNING FOR THE LIVING:

If you think this is just me, you’re not paying attention.

If God can edit time for one,

He can scroll the archives for all.

So here’s what I’d tell anyone waking up:

1. Pay attention to your guides.

2. Notice the edits.

3. Let the collapse happen.

4. Don’t resist the footage.

5. And when the council calls, don’t lie.

Just… speak.

This is no longer metaphor.

This is orientation.

So hold on.

Choose love.

And take notes.

You may not get out unscathed,

but you might—just maybe—get out alive.