#you have opened a can of worms. may god have mercy on your soul

[n7viper]

do NOT ask the guy with N7 in their name about biotics

[yandere-wishes]

MONSTERS

👹 Yandere Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

👹Summary: Monsters aren’t born they're made, but Sukuna stumbles across the rare exception...

👹Warning: dehumanization, mention of gore, blood, slight dub-con mentioned in passing, death, past trauma, and abuse

👹 Edited: By the lovely @tealyjade-libran !

👹 Wordcount: 2,480

👹Alternative Tittle : If Roxanne ( from the Police song) lived in ancient Japan.

👹First Jujutsu kaisen fic! I hope you guys like it, please let me know your thoughts! Likes and reblogs appreciated!

Monsters were made. 

Slowly created as once blazing ideals, withered and died under harsh strokes of reality. Stitched together with broken promises and the ashes of rotting memories. 

Monsters were made

whisked into a role they once dreaded, once feared. Beaten into the role of the villain, the reprobate, the sinner. 

If anyone ever asked Sukuna when was the exact moment he turned his back on the laws of "good" and "evil", shedding his human skin to regrow a pelt of hate and destruction,

He would simply answer, "Never".

Because skin is skin no matter how much it decays. Even if the epidermis turns into a rotting orange shade, littered with eyeballs and teeth that shouldn't grow there.Even if the blood from all those he's slain has finally stained his dermis, tainting it in a permanent crimson that all the waters of Lake Biwa could never wash off. Even if his hypodermis is no longer made of fatty tissue but rather spiritual energy sucked from the atmosphere. It's still skin, the same old skin he was born with.

Sukuna had never shed his skin, he'd only perfected it, enhanced it, molded it into its perfect form, until he was no longer held back by foolish human limitations.

He'd never been "reborn" only recreated; only perfected. 

Spike, talon and teeth covered arms sprouting from oozing, bleeding scars, charred over by begriming infections that burned worse than the strikes he'd endured as a child. Knuckles and bones cracking over and over and over again until they grew as solid as the rocks that were thrown at him when he was all too little to understand the malice behind the insults and threats. Breaking until they could break no more, until they'd become strong enough to split a boulder with a mere flick.

There had come a time when he'd given up licking his wounds, leaving them to be kissed by the mold-covered worms who left an urticating sensation he'd soon come to associate with victory. Rotting flesh growing covered in thick layers of black tar tattoos that hid every cut he'd endured when he'd once been too weak. 

Monsters were created from quarter truths buried neck-deep in fables that snipped like red-eyed scorpions. 

Until the blood dancing through their veins was as black as the void they now called home. 

Sukuna knew the exact moment he realized he was a monster. The day he realized he liked the crunch of skulls beneath his feet, the pitiful spark in mortified eyes staring at the heavens for a scrap of mercy. Mangled mouths barely held together by fractured jaw bones, uttering prayers and pleas that died in the scorching air. 

Sukuna knew he was an abnormality, patched together by broken heirlooms and shattered family traditions. Sitting on a throne made from skulls of those who thought they could ever kill him. 

You can't kill a monster, for you can not kill that which was never born. 

You can't slay something made from good intentions with malevolent methods, something so vile that it might actually be pure. At the end of the day, no monster really admits that it is a monster, a nightmare that should have never existed. 

Yet...

Tattered hearts and cruel orbs are never quite enough. No monster is complete until they dive off that last edge, plummet into the sea of nothingness, and finally, finally break their souls on the spiked soil. Monsters, spirits, curses any malicious being that had been mended together like a half-done ragdoll was not complete until they truly let go. Until they erased all the former humanity that they had been born with. Until their eyes reflected nothing, no emotions, no malice, no want, no need. Just the absolute emptiness. 

The void in all its glory.

that was the symbol, the true markings of a real monstrosity. The void that took over their existence, that had replaced every inch of their former self. Only then could it be said that you were above all other beings, the true perfection of this world. 

There are worse things created than monsters, things that are made from nothing and everything. Things above "Yin" and "Yang". Things that have no scrap of humanity, monstrosity, or anything in them.

Things that are just empty.

So maybe -just maybe- that's why when Sukuna's rotting orange eyes landed on the epitome of emptiness, a...girl, whose face was sculpted to disreflect emotions and intents. Someone who was the void of darkness itself. The true personification of nothingness. 

His heart -for the first time in countless centuries- began to throb.

a truly dead face swarmed by a sea of buzzing ants, chasing their routine happiness. Smiles of delight and carelessness carved on their aging faces with sunlight knives and the melody of golden coins. The lust for life leaking from every pore of their bodies. 

With every face being a carbon copy of each other it was no wonder yours stood out.

There was a silver chain of attraction, dragging Sukuna towards the village girl. Not love, never love, the king of curses was beyond certain, that neither you nor he could feel such a honey-laced sensation. It was more like....something. Something paranormal, inexpiable. Some magnetic force outside of everything's control. 

It was easy enough to explain why he liked you. Why you stood out from the other insects of this middle-of-nowhere-village. 

You had dark matter for blood and dead seas for brains. 

Your eyes radiated an endless abyss. Making others shy away from your lifeless gaze. Scared to look into the void in fear that it may respond. 

You were a thrown away doll,

A living dead,

A dying star,

You were the daughter of the number zero,

The monster that had no maker nor mother. 

Something not born nor created. 

Just an entity that roamed the earth, with no desire nor hope, no wish nor dream. Not leaving, not dying, just existing in the space between today and tomorrow. 

There'd been no need for pleasantries, for hiding behind ghostly tree branches and frozen windows. There'd been no need to kill or ravage for you. No competition to eliminate, because no one ever came near you. Humans don't like what they can't explain, Sukuna knew that all too well. 

Sukuna watched from a close enough distance to almost touch. Lingering around like a phantom begging to be noticed. Orbs trailing over you, but never approaching. Until one day he'd just stood still. Waited for you to turn your head just a fraction to the left, just to see him in all his menacing terror. To finally notice the clawing, crawling sensation that had been creeping up your spine like a hoard of spiders. 

And when your dead eyes did finally land on him. Sukuna could swear that his breath hitched in his throat for the first time in his seemingly endless life.

You weren't human. Humans didn't have hollow faces or marbles for lips. 

You weren't a curse. Curses didn't lack venom dripping from their souls.

You were something better than a monster. You were the divinity of monstrosity, the void itself. Black holes for eyes, answerless paradoxes for hands, and an endless maze where your torso should have been. 

 Exploding suns danced around you, burning, burning, till they died out, leaving behind no trace that they once lit up the universe. 

The space after the end, that's what you were.

Perfect, to Sukuna you were perfect.

You hadn't run, hadn't screamed, hadn't even bothered to talk. You didn't care about him, couldn't care about him. That's what made him want you, made his mouth salivate with the thought of your flesh between his teeth. 

That night the world stood still, as Sukuna's claws penetrated your flesh like twirling needles. You were as light as a feather. You weighed nothing, were nothing. All so easy to pluck and throw about. You never made a noise when your body collided with the bamboo walls, just letting gravity and Sukuna play a twisted ball game with your lump of a body.

You hadn't protested when he violated you. As his lips bit every inch of your body raw. For some unearthly reason that even the gods couldn't understand, would never want to understand, you had found the Curse's violent actions rather...adoring. Taking every slap and slash with the earnest pride of a small child getting praised for a day of relentless chores. letting the dawn-tinted-haired monster adorn your body in blue and purple jewels. It felt right, in a  pathetically, nauseating, twisted way...it just felt right.

 It was disastrous, sure, but it was right. Like two universes crashing. Destroying each other with every kiss and every bruise. 

But...

For the first time in your meaningless life, you had truly understood what "happiness" felt like. 

For the first time in his endless life, Sukuna had truly understood what "intimacy" felt like.

///

Was it wrong to kiss you? For a fraction of a second Sukuna hesitated, blood tinged lips hovering millimeters away from your own stone-set ones. The moon's cursed rays acting like an unnoticed barrier, keeping two things out of each other's grasp. His lips curled back revealing two rows of knife-like teeth. The last resort, a final hope that you'd run away, that you'd act somewhat normal. The king of curses, the evil among men, didn't mind your lack of regularity. He didn't mind how you leaned into every bitter strike, every painful display of fading affection . He adored how you merely giggled as he slashed open your uncharged skin, creating slits for your blood to spill through, onto his waiting tongue. He admired your lifelessness, the way you radiated death. 

Oh, how you filled him with a startling aftershock every time he touched you. Every time his tongue lapped at your bleeding skin he'd feel the sort of electric shocks that came after the storms had passed. Your body had no shape, it molded to his touch, turning his favorite shades of red, with just a little pressure. 

But sometimes, in fleeting, endless seconds. He wished he had a name for what you two were. You weren't his per se, you could never be his. Being his would indicate that he cared about you, or heck even loved you and that could never be true. The king of curses did not love, nor care. He merely tolerated you; you fascinated him, that's all. 

It had been many moons since he first found you in that no-name village. Months upon months since you'd been by his side. You'd watched as he'd destroyed cities, helped him even. Eyes never shedding a single tear. Mouth never uttering a single protest. 

The two of you had become the best, the King of curses and the Queen of nothingness. With the dying speed of laboring bees, Sukuna had carved himself inside of you. Twisted emptiness into flower-covered destruction. Into molten gold lava. 

Leaving you with wounds that were stuck in a cycle of healing and opening. Until they began to harden like his. Until the need for spilled blood lingered on your tongue like the burn of boiled tea. Until under your nails were coated in a decaying crust of dried blood. Sukuna hadn't turned you into a monster, he'd simply showed you the powers that came with your apathy. With a heart as torn and cold as yours, it was a shame to let it go to waste. 

"You're not half bad," his tone is never approving. It's always laced with a strictness that keeps you nailed into place. His words are oxymorons sounding like praise, but once you peel back the lather layers they're just taunts in disguise. 

You don't answer, words die on your tongue as quickly as they are born. Sukuna can't even remember what your voice sounds like outside of small whispers in heat filled nights. 

 However, to the two of you, things like that didn't matter. Your lack of being even semi-alive and Sukuna's endless abuse had become a norm for the two of you. Where else were a two-faced monster and a lifeless girl going to find love anyway? 

Sukuna was all you had, all you ever had. You'd die for him, kill for him, turn into anything for him. Because he gave you life. 

A purpose to life, made out of raging fires and endless screams. A life fabricated from the pain and suffering of others. That was what the king of curses had given you, all wrapped in a human skin parchment. Maybe that's why all logic withered away the first night he kissed you, maybe from the first second that you sensed his presence you had finally gained a reason to be alive. 

///

Whoever said the end of the world was beautiful? Whoever said the final days would be bright and glowing and pure? 

It's just a blaze of stray flames and red crystal droplets that may or may not be your blood. Funny, Sukuna had always thought that your blood would be as black as the moonless sky, not a mundane red like everyone else's. He'd expected a grander death from you. Some sort of black hole opening to swallow the world whole. Not just another corpse motionless in a pool of their own blood. 

Although he's not one to talk. His own 'death' is lingering on the horizon. Sukuna's head tilts back looking for the flashing jujutsu sorcerers. 

"S-sukun-a..." 

He smirks, fangs sticking out at odd angles. Your voice is sweet, for the first time in forever he'd even dare say it held some semblance of emotion. 

What that emotion is, he doubts he knows or even really cares. He'd long since stopped trying to identify all those "feelings" and their associated names. 

His orange eyes lock with your fading orbs, one last time. No, not the last time, just the final time in this lifetime. He's sure he's going to see you again. In any other life, Sukuna knows he'll be able to recognize you despite whatever flesh suit you'd be wearing. 

"Shh little one," he's halfway gone before he finishes his sentence, leaving you to relish in his memory in your final moments. "We'll see each other once more, someday in another life..."

His four eyes lock on the approaching sorcerers. He finds it humorous how desperate they look. How alive and ready they seem, such a stark contrast to your ever lifeless face and dead eyes, it repulses him. 

"Or maybe in one of the circles of hell." 

The flames encircling his fingers remind him of the heat your body radiated in the dead of night. The crack from bones hum as they meet his knuckles, flash memories of your days wasted together doing nothing and everything. 

The two of you will meet once more, he's sure of it. After all...

Monsters never die. 

How could something that was never even born in the first place, ever die?

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Hi love, so I was wondering if u had any thoughts about Edward panic changing Bella if she was close to death while he was near. Like if they were in a car accident or whatever and medical help was too far away. For all his refusal to turn her and let her die naturally, he seems like he would panic and bite her when in the actual situation. (Regardless of whether or not he succeeds in turning her or mercy kills her after, because I totally agree with u about those two lmao 😭😭😂)

Hello, anon.

Well, this actually happened in canon.

The Fiasco of Bella's Emergency Birth

Bella's emergency C-section was a complete shit show and almost like an act of God to make sure Carlisle was not there. The date for the operation had been set, after weeks of starvation Carlisle finally leaves the house in order to prepare for surgery, and the second he steps out side what happens.

Bella's spine snaps like a twig, Edward has to eat his daughter out of the womb, and Bella's goes into cardiac arrest.

Bella's heart stops in the middle of this, her spine was broken, and she lost a massive amount of blood. Bella was a millisecond from death.

Edward stabs her with a syringe and chooses to turn her.

Before that point, it was unclear that he would.

He starts Breaking Dawn trying to coax Bella into postponing the change or even delaying it inevitably. His plan is to attend college with her, something Bella would physically not be capable of as a typical newborn.

Given the Volturi, this was absolutely not an option, Edward insists it is anyway.

When Bella becomes pregnant with his child, his plan is to abort her (forcibly if need be) and supply her Jacob Black as a stud in order to deliver all the human babies she could possibly want. Bella by this point cannot digest human food, her stomach has turned to stone, and Renesmee has likely damaged her internal organs beyond repair. Bella cannot go back to being an ordinary human, not without significant health issues, and that's if she survives at all (which I find doubtful).

I'm sure Edward had it in his mind that, even with Carlisle cutting Bella's uterus open with his teeth, that somehow, in some miraculous way, they might not have to turn Bella. Bella can remain human and everything will be fine.

But then Bella is dying in front of him, he sees her heart stop, and he makes the panic decision to save her life. He shoots her heart full of venom then begins CPR. Bella survives through the transformation and is turned.

To me though, this was very much a panic changing and something that was up in the air. Edward in that moment had to decide whether or not he could live without Bella, even if she's a vampire. He chose to keep her, he likely will always wonder if he made the correct choice.

But Back To Your Question

By Breaking Dawn Bella's been around a while. She's made it repeatedly clear, many many times, that she wants to be a vampire. She and Edward have extensively argued both pros and cons of vampirism. Edward's not sure Bella really gets what his reality is (she doesn't) but they have gone over it.

Bella's also talked to Carlisle, Rosalie, and Jasper about the whole vampire package. She's met multiple vampires, been attacked by multiple vampires, even Edward can't deny she's seen the ugly side of vampirism.

Bella really wants to be a vampire.

Edward has also faced reality without Bella Swan. It's bleak, cold, and endless. There is nothing for him in that world, even separating from her if she were to remain human pains him significantly.

Even Edward, stubborn as he is, could read the writing on the wall by Breaking Dawn. The decision is ruminating in the back of his mind and the option, loathe as he is to admit it, is actually on the table.

Then you have Renesmee who really helps things along. Per Renesmee, Edward decides that vampires do in fact have a soul. He is not a damned, senseless, creature and turning Bella would not condemn her to be a monster. He still likely doesn't like the idea of it, for reasons he cannot explain to himself, but his major theological argument is now gone.

Without Renesmee's gift, he may very well not have gone for that syringe.

But say we're in Twilight or even New Moon, this is a Bella Edward is sure has no idea what a vampire is. One who has not had a chance to assert a billion times that, yes, she really really really wants to do this. He's still convinced he can leave her and she can live a human life without vampires or any supernatural nonsense.

We see this Bella get significantly injured in Edward's presence.

Bella is losing a lot of blood fast after her run in with James. Carlisle has to start stitching her up immediately and get her to a hospital. A little later, and even from the blood loss she might have died. She's also been been bitten.

To stop her transformation, the venom would have to be sucked out, something notoriously difficult to do even under the best of circumstances. Bella's currently bleeding profusely and is Edward's singer: this is a death sentence.

Rather than panic change her, Edward panic keeps her human. He sucks the poison out, nearly going too far and killing her, and risks her death to keep her human.

In that moment, though it's a flash decision, Edward would rather Bella die than turn her. (After which, of course, he would go to Volterra to kill himself and give Aro an aneurism).

He repeats this sort of idea throughout the series. Notable are the times that Bella gives him hypothetical scenarios, increasingly ridiculous, to see what he would come up with.

A car crashes? Edward never crashes cars, he is that awesome at driving. And if the car crashes anyway, he has the reflexes of a panther, he'll unbuckle Bella, vault out of the car, and heroically jump out the back window to safety and humanity. Bella will never be injured.

A plane crashes? Edward unbuckles Bella from her seatbelt, carries her bridal style to the emergency exit, and then throws them both out the window and to safety... some tens of thousands of feet below preferably in water. He and Bella are then photographed as the sole miraculous survivors of this terrible tragedy. (When Edward gave this answer, I had my answer as to whether or not Edward actually passed his basic physics class. The answer, children, is no.)

Granted, these are not actual scenarios, and it's easier to give these kinds of answers than talk about them. But it's very telling that in Twilight, when Bella point blank tells him that one day she will die and that is the truth of humanity, he essentially says, "Blue Screen: ERROR" back to her followed swiftly by, "THE SUBJECT IS CLOSED".

Back to Your Question (Again)

But let's say we have your scenario. The summer after James, in Bella and Edward's summer of love before the birthday disaster, Edward (say it ain't so) crashes the fucking Volvo.

What can one expect when making a sharp turn at 110 MPH? Well, Edward has the reflexes of a panther, so he never saw it coming somehow. Bella, of course, saw it coming the first time she stepped into Edward's car.

Edward walks out fine, Bella... does not. The car's down in a ravine, Bella's bleeding out, it is clear she is not going to survive this and Edward cannot get her to the hospital in time even with his speed.

Well, given this is Twilight, and given the shock of all of this and suddenness, Edward could very well black out and eat her. When Edward comes to, he's om nom noming on Bella's battered corpse.

Edward runs away to Italy to kill himself.

Say he doesn't though, Edward manages to hold his breath or else miraculously control himself. Bella's still bleeding out, and giving him this very dazed, expectant, look. From Bella's face, it's clear what she's thinking: Turn Me, You Dipshit.

However... I imagine if Bella can't say the words out loud, Edward while panicked and in terror of losing her, won't do it. He will not condemn her to vampirism without her explicit consent.

Let's say Bella gurgles out, "Turn me, Edward"

Well, things just got a whole lot harder. This is now Bella's dying wish, she's looking at him even as the light fades out of her eyes, and he can see the growing resignation and disappointment in them. Edward will have this image with him forever, the life, light, and love bleeding out of Bella and her undoubtedly final thoughts that Edward was never worthy of her.

Honestly? Toss a coin.

I could see it going either way.

Edward stalls so long, deliberating, that the time for action passes. Bella dies right in front of him. That, or he sees her life force flickering and before he can think about it he bites her (whether to eat her or turn her we'll never truly know) and then it's too late, it's done, he's turned her himself. (If, of course, he doesn't accidentally kill her in the process).

The Aftermath

If he turns her then Edward will forever be haunted by the guilt that he destroyed Bella Swan. He turned her into a monster, just as he feared, and has condemned her to this miserable existence where she becomes orphaned from everything she knew.

Edward in this situation breaks things off with Bella (very awkward as they're part of the same coven now), he can't handle the guilt of what he did to her or what she now is. He thinks about mercy killing her, but given it's his own damn fault, is probably very conflicted and feels unworthy of taking even this action. All of this just makes him the lowest of worms.

Bella is utterly devastated that Edward appears to no longer love her (just as she suspected) and tries desperately to assure him that she loves being a vampire. She's finally comfortable in her own skin. She certainly still loves him and more, even if she wasn't happy, she gave her consent and would never hold that against him.

Edward doesn't care.

Edward likely goes to Rio to try to wrap his head around everything and be miserable by himself. Alice and Jasper likely leave on Alice's journey of self-discovery (but mostly to just avoid the emotional turmoil of the Cullen household). Rosalie actively blames Bella for this and tells her so to her face, Esme is an utter wreck, and Carlisle's working triple overtime at the hospital. Bella is even more devastated, she's Yoko Ono breaking apart the Beatles.

Bella offers to leave the Cullens. If she leaves then everything will go back to normal, right?

Everyone protests. But everyone here is pretty much Esme and Carlisle. But mostly Carlisle. Esme tries to, but it's in between sobs, where she talks about how beautiful Bella and Edward were AND THEY CAN WORK IT OUT. Emmett would, but Rosalie views Bella as a home wrecker and he has to side with the wife. Which just leaves Carlisle trying to lamely insist this isn't her fault.

It isn't, but, well, things are very bad right now.

Carlisle likely sets up Bella with the Denali. This ends after a few weeks, Bella can't handle the lifestyle and being the ugly brunette sister. Bella likely becomes a nomad and catches up with the Cullens every few years or so.

The 'Cullens' of course, becoming smaller and smaller each consecutive visit as the coven utterly dissolves.

The last time Bella visits, it's just Carlisle. Esme ran off to support Edward in Rio, Alice and Jasper never came back, and Rosalie and Emmett are on their 23rd honey-moon.

And that's how Bella rejoins the Cullens (i.e. Carlisle).

It's very awkward.

[officialyourdailyinspiration]

Sincerity Essential in Prayer

by Jared Waterbury

"Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me, and know my thoughts; and see if there is any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting." - Psalm 139:23-24

Sincerity is an essential ingredient in prayer. Without it, no prayer can be acceptable. Indeed, if we are insincere we cannot be said to pray. A mere form of words is not prayer. Prayer is the desire of the heart for something necessary or beneficial. It implies a knowledge of our needs and an urgent wish to have them supplied. If, therefore, the heart is roving after one object while the lips are asking for another, we are insincere and unacceptable worshipers.

Take time to reflect before you bend the knee at the throne of grace. You are not about to approach an earthly monarch, who, though surrounded with the pomp of royalty, is but a worm in the dust like yourself. But you are to have audience with the King of kings, the Lord of the whole earth! Were you in the presence of a mere earthly king, you might conceal your feelings under a form of words, uttering one thing and meaning quite another. But can you practice such deception with God? Are not all things "naked and open to the eyes of Him to whom we must give account?" Does He not search the hearts of the children of men? "He who planted the ear, shall He not hear? He who formed the eye, shall He not see?"

Now I would not clothe the character of God in terrors to your mind, or send you to tremble like a slave at his feet. No, he is a God of love, of compassion, of long forbearance. He is more beneficent and tender than the fondest earthly parent. You may go to him--and you must go--in the confiding simplicity of a child and a favorite. You may unburden your whole heart, tell him things that you could not confide to any mortal ear, make confession of sins that you dare only whisper in your closet; and in frankness of faith and penitence, humbly cast yourself on his all-supporting arm.

Before entering on prayer, know what you are praying for, what sins you have to confess, what mercies you are to acknowledge, what needs there are to be supplied. Do not cover over one sin or keep back one confession. Do not ask for holiness if you would retain a single lust, if you are not resolved to crucify all. Do not ask for power in witnessing if in your heart you do not sincerely desire it. "Search me, O God," should always be your petition. Nothing is so well calculated to foster the spirit of devotion as to be enabled to say with Peter, "Thou knowest." Your words may fail in expressing the number and aggravation of your sins, yet you can pray, "Thou knowest." Although your words fail in expressing your gratitude, yet you can pray, "Thou knowest." It is a sweet expression in the ears of a prayer-hearing God.

Be aware that you will be tempted to be superficial and hurried in your prayers. Your enemy will suggest some activity that will preclude or cut short your supplications, some suggestion that all this meditation before God is unnecessary. If these attacks prevail, you will find yourself wishing your prayer time to be over, and uttering it rather as a sedative to conscience than as the supreme delight of your soul. Henceforth you will come like a slave to the altar, and having satisfied conscience that you have performed the accustomed task, you will be glad of a speedy relief. You may even find yourself uttering words and forms the meaning of which you are totally unconscious. This is sinful in the extreme.

But I urge you to come boldly to the throne of grace and yield not to the power of the tempter. Give him no advantage over you. Dispute every inch of ground. Instead of retreating, advance; instead of relaxing, brace anew your nerves for the conflict. Take the whole armor of God. Look upward for grace and strength to wield it. March forward to the glory that lies beyond. Keep your eye steadily on the Captain of your salvation. May you be found where his banners wave, even though it be in the thickest of the fight. And soon your trials will be over, your victory won, and you will have nothing to do but lay aside your weapons and sing the note of eternal triumph.

[michaelbogild]

Lines by Bruce Springsteen

Shithole on the corner, no light, no sign Nobody on the street except the deaf, dumb, and blind

Now your death is upon us, and we'll return your ashes to the earth And I know you'll take comfort in knowing you've been roundly blessed and cursed

Some girls, they want a handsome Dan Or some good-lookin' Joe on their arm Some girls like a sweet-talkin' Romeo Well, 'round here, baby I learned you get what you can get So if you're rough enough for love Honey, I'm tougher than the rest

Can't see nothing in front of me Can't see nothing coming up behind Make my way through this darkness I can't feel nothing but this chain that binds me Lost track of how far I've gone How far I've gone, how high I've climbed On my back's a sixty pound stone On my shoulder, a half-mile line

A mother prays, "Sleep tight, my child, sleep well For I'll be at your side That no shadow, no darkness, no tolling bell Shall pierce your dreams this night"

Tonight we'll sing the songs I'll dream of you, my corazón And tomorrow my heart will be strong And may the saints blessing and grace Carry me safely into your arms There, across the border

We are alive And though our bodies lie alone here in the dark Our spirits rise To carry the fire and light the spark To stand shoulder to shoulder and heart to heart

The condition you're in Now you just can't get out of this skin

The hurricane blows, brings a hard rain When the blue sky breaks, it feels like the world's gonna change We'll start caring for each other like Jesus said that we might I'm a Jack of all trades, we'll be alright

You shot through my anger and rage To show me my prison was just an open cage There were no keys no guards Just one frightened man and some old shadows for bars

You gave your love to see In fields of red and autumn brown You gave your love to me And lay your young body down

If the angels are unkind or the season is dark Or if in the end Love just falls apart Then here's to our destruction Baby let me be your soul driver

I know we're different you and me Got a different way of walking The time has come to let the past be history Yeah, if we could just start talking

I chased the heat of her blood Like it was the holy grail Descend beautiful spirit Into the evening pale Her appaloosa's Kicking in the corral smelling rain There's a low thunder rolling Across the mesquite plain

The dust of civilizations and love's sweet remains Slip off of your fingers and come drifting down like rain The pages of Revelation lie open in your empty eyes of blue I watch you slip that comb through your hair and this, I promise you, I'll work for your love, dear

Tend to your flock or they will stray We'll be called for our service come judgment day Before we cross that river wide The blood on our hands will come back on us twice

Bird on a wire outside my motel room But he ain't singing Girl in white outside a church in June But the church bells ain't ringing I'm sitting here in this bar tonight But all I'm thinking Is I'm the same old story, same old act One step up and two steps back

Goodbye, my darling For your love, I give God thanks, Meet me on the Matamoros banks

Trees on fire with the first fall's frost Long black line in front of Holy Cross Blood moon rising in a sky of black dust Tell me baby, who do you trust?

He saw the watcher at the city gates Jonah in the belly of a whale He watched you walk your ragged mile His mercy it did not fail

I got somethin' in my heart, I been waitin' to give I got a life I wanna start, one I been waitin' to live No more waitin', tonight I feel the light I say the prayer I open the door, I climb the stairs

Yeah funny, I thought I felt a sweet summer breeze Must have been you sighing so deep, Don't worry, we're going to find a way

So you been broken and you been hurt Show me somebody who ain't Yeah I know I ain't nobody's bargain But hell a little touchup And a little paint

Tires on the highway hissing that something's coming You can feel the wires in the tree tops humming Devil's on the horizon line Your kiss and I'm alive

Mister trouble come walkin' this way Year gone past feels like one long day But I'm alive and I'm feelin' all right Well I run that hard road outta hearbreak city Built a roadside carnival out of hurt and self-pity It was all wrong well now I'm movin' on

Band's counting out midnight Floor's rumbling loud Singer's calling up daylight And waiting for that shout from the crowd

Remember the morning we dug up your gun The worms in the barrel, the hanging sun Those first nervous evenings of perfume and gin The lost smell on your breath as I helped you get it in The rush of your lips, the feel of your name The beat in your heart, the devil's arcade

You're looking for the key of that box you locked yourself in

I hold my breath and close my eyes And I wait for paradise

The road is dark And it's a thin thin line But I want you to know I'll walk it for you any time Maybe your other boyfriends Couldn't pass the test Well, if you're rough and ready for love Honey, I'm tougher than the rest

Well now on a summer night in a dusky room Come a little piece of the Lord's undying light Crying like he swallowed the fiery moon In his mother's arms it was all the beauty I could take Like the missing words to some prayer that I could never make In a world so hard and dirty so fouled and confused Searching for a little bit of God's mercy I found living proof

Now it's some old Stones' song the band is trashin' But if you feel like dancin', baby, I'm askin'

I got seven pictures of Buddha The prophet's on my tongue Eleven angels of mercy Sighing over that black hole in the sun My heart's dark but it's rising I'm pulling all the faith I can see From that black hole on the horizon I hear your voice calling me

So tell me what I see when I look in your eyes Is that you baby or just a brilliant disguise

I wanna build me a house, on higher ground I wanna find me a world, where love's the only sound High above this road, filled with shadow and doubt I want to shoulder my load, and figure it all out With Leah

But love and duty called you some place higher Somewhere up the stairs, into the fire

Hard times, baby well they come to us all Sure as the ticking of the clock on the wall Sure as the turning of the night into day Your smile girl, brings the morning light to my eyes Lifts away the blues when I rise I hope that you're coming to stay

I heard somebody call your name from underneath our willow I saw something tucked in shame underneath your pillow Well I've tried so hard baby but I just can't see What a woman like you is doing with me

Now everyone dreams of a love lasting and true But you and I know what this world can do So let's make our steps clear that the other may see And I'll wait for you If I should fall behind Wait for me

Now I was young and pretty on the mean streets of the city And I fought to make 'em my home With just the shirt on my back I left and swore I'd never look back And man I was gone gone gone But there's things that'll knock you down you don't even see coming And send you crawling like a baby back home You're gonna find out that day, sugar

She sits on the porch of her daddy's house Oh but honey your pretty dress is torn She stared off alone into the night With the eyes of one who hates for just being born

Well here's to your good looks baby now here's to my health Here's to the loaded places that we take ourselves When it comes to luck you make your own Tonight I got to dirt on my hands but I'm building me a new home

My father said, "Son, we're lucky in this town It's a beautiful place to be born It just wraps its arms around you Nobody crowds you, and nobody goes it alone"

In the darkness my fingers slip across your skin I feel your sweet reply The room fades away and suddenly I'm way up high Just holdin' you to me As through the window the moonlight streams Oh won't you baby be in my book of dreams

Well it's never too late so come on girl The tables are waiting You and me and lady luck well tonight We'll be celebrating Drinkin' champagne on ice In just another roll of the dice

Same old faces it's the same old town What once was laughs is draggin' me now Waitin' on rain hangin' on for love Words of forgiveness from some God above Ain't no words of mercy comin' from on high Oh no just a long goodbye

We've given each other some hard lessons lately We ain't learning We're the same sad story, that's a fact One step up and two steps back

Taj Mahal, the pyramids of Egypt are unique, I suppose But when they built you, brother, they broke the mold

I need you to chase these blues away Without you, I'm a drummer girl that can't keep a beat, Ice cream truck on a deserted street

Good times got a way of slipping away

It's the same thing night on night Who's wrong baby who's right Another fight and I slam the door On another battle in our dirty little war

Is dry lightning on the horizon line Just dry lightning and you on my mind

The day rips apart A dark and bloody arrow pierced my heart

There's a cross up yonder on Calvary Hill There's a slip of blood on a silver knife There's a graveyard kid down below Where at night the dead come to life

My soul went walkin' but I stayed here Feel like I been workin' for a thousand years Chippin' away at this chain of my own lies Climbin' a wall a hundred miles high Well I woke up this morning on the other side Yeah yeah this is the long goodbye

Now sometimes tomorrow comes soaked in treasure and blood Here we stood the drought, now we'll stand the flood There's a new world coming, I can see the light I'm a Jack of all trades, we'll be alright

I'm trudging through the dark in a world gone wrong I woke up this morning shackled and drawn

Now, when all this steel and these stories Drift away to rust And all our youth and beauty Has been given to the dust When the game has been decided And we're burnin' down the clock And all our little victories and glories Have turned into parking lots

The rain it keeps on falling on twisted bones and dirt I'm buried to my heart here in this hurt

These are better days baby Yeah there's better days shining through These are better days baby Better days with a girl like you

Now I ply my trade in the land of king dollar Where you get paid and your silence passes as honor And all the hatred and dirty little lies Been written off the books and into decent men's eyes

Well, darling if you're weary Lay your head upon my chest We'll take what we can carry Yeah, and we'll leave the rest

Give me help, give me strength Give a soul a night of fearless sleep Give me love, give me peace Don't you know these days you pay for everything

Where're the eyes, the eyes with the will to see Where're the hearts that run over with mercy Where's the love that has not forsaken me Where's the work that set my hands, my soul free Where's the spirit that'll reign, reign over me Where's the promise from sea to the shining sea

Been on a barbed wire highway 40 days and nights I ain't complaining, it's my job and it suits me right I got a sweet soft fever rushing around my head I'm gonna sleep tonight in Maria's bed

Baby, once I thought I knew Everything I needed to know about you Your sweet whisper, your tender touch I didn't really know that much Joke's on me, but it's going to be okay If I can just get through this lonesome day

Ain't no mercy on the streets of this town Ain't no bread from heavenly skies Ain't nobody drawin' wine from this blood It's just you and me tonight

I knew some day your running would be through and you'd think back on me and you And your love would be strong You'd forget all about the bad and think only of all the laughs that we had And you'd wanna come home Well, now it ain't hard feelings or nothing, sugar That ain't what's got me singing this song It's just nobody knows baby where love goes But when it goes it's gone gone

Dark and bloody autumn pierces my heart The memory of your kiss tears me apart The sky above is turning, the world below's gone gray I thought that I could turn and walk away

Einstein and Shakespeare Sitting having a beer Einstein trying to figure out the number that adds up to this Shakespeare said, "Man it all starts with a kiss" Einstein is scratching Numbers on his napkin Shakespeare said, "Man, it's just one and one make three Ah, that's why it's poetry"

Your sweet memory comes on the evening wind I sleep and dream of holding you in my arms again The lights of Brownsville across the river shine A shout rings out, into the silty red river, I dive

Seven days, seven candles In my window, light your way Your favorite record's on the turntable I drop the needle and pray

Well, the piss yellow sun Comes bringing up the day She said "Ain't nobody can give nobody What they really need anyway"

Your voice comes calling through the mist I awake from a dream and my heart begins to drift

I'll hammer the nails and I'll set the stone I'll harvest your crops when they're ripe and grown I'll pull that engine apart and patch her up 'til she's running right I'm a Jack of all trades, we'll be alright

I want a thousand guitars I want pounding drums I want a million different voices speaking in tongues

Out where the sky's been cleared by a good hard rain There's somebody callin' my secret name

Blood on the streets Yeah, blood flowing down I hear the blood of my blood Crying from the ground

Well, it ought to be easy, it ought to be simple enough Yeah, man meets woman and they fall in love But this house is haunted and the ride gets rough You've got to learn to live with what you can't rise above If you want to ride on down, down in through this tunnel of love

You said, "Heroes are needed, so heroes get made" Somebody made a bet, somebody paid The cool desert morning and nothing to save Just metal and plastic where your body caved

Well I took a piss at fortune's sweet kiss It's like eatin' caviar and dirt It's sad funny ending to find yourself pretending A rich man in a poor man's shirt

In the late afternoon sun fills the room with a mist in the garden before the fall I watch your hands smooth the front of your blouse and seven drops of blood fall

I'm standing in the backyard Listening to the party inside Tonight I'm drinkin' in the forgiveness This life provides

We've got no fairytale ending In God's hands our fate is complete Your heaven's here in my heart Our love's this dust beneath my feet

Billy felt a coldness rise up inside him that he couldn't name Just as the words tattooed 'cross his knuckles he knew would always remain At their bedside, he brushed the hair from his wife's face as the moon shone on her skin so white Filling their room in the beauty of God's fallen light

Now Tom said, "Mom, wherever there's a cop beating a guy Wherever a hungry newborn baby cries Where there's a fight against the blood and hatred in the air Look for me, Mom, I'll be there

Well tonight I just wanna shout I feel my soul waist deep and sinking Into this black river of doubt I just wanna rise and walk along the riverside And when the morning comes baby I don't wanna hide I'll stand right at your side with my arms open wide

Hands me two tickets, smiles and whispers good luck Well cuddle up angel, cuddle up my little dove We'll ride down baby into this tunnel of love

Everything is everything But you're missing

Where the distant oceans sing and rise to the plains In this dry and troubled country, your beauty remains Down from the mountain roads where the highway rolls to dark Beneath Allah's blessed rain, we remain worlds apart

The moon is high and here I am Sittin' here with this hammer in hand One more drink oughta ease the pain Starin' at that last link in the chain Well let's raise our glass and let the hammer fly Hey yeah this is the long goodbye

Baby let's get our bags packed We'll take it here to hell and heaven and back And if love is hopeless hopeless at best Come on put on your party dress it's ours tonight And we're going with the tumblin' dice

I got a cold mind to go tripping across that thin line I'm sick of doing straight time

There's a girl across the bar I get the message she's sending Hmm she ain't looking too married Me well honey I'm pretending Last night I dreamed I held you in my arms The music was never ending We danced as the evening sky faded to black One step up and two steps back

Well the highway is alive tonight But nobody's kidding nobody about where it goes I'm sitting down here in the campfire light Searching for the ghost of Tom Joad

I got my finger on the trigger But I don't know who to trust When I look into your eyes There's just devils and dust

Well now his kisses may thrill Those other girls that he likes But when it comes to treatin' A real woman right Well all of his tricks No they won't be enough 'Cause lovin' you baby lovin' you woman Lovin' you darlin' is a man's man's job

There was a woman waiting at the well Drawing water beneath a desert sky of blue She said "He'll heal the blind, raise the dead Cure the sickness out of you"

I been knocking on the door that holds the throne I been looking for the map that leads me home I been stumbling on good hearts turned to stone The road of good intentions has gone dry as a bone

Wherever somebody's fighting for a place to stand Or a decent job or a helping hand Wherever somebody's struggling to be free Look in their eyes, Ma, and you'll see me"

Tell me in a world without pity Do you think what I'm askin's too much? I just want something to hold on to And a little of that human touch

Tell me someone, what's the price I want to buy some time and maybe live my life I want to have a wife, I want to have some kids I want to look in their eyes and know they'll stand a chance

Well, your desires for your sweet confusion I'll walk away then, I don't buy your delusions

She gave me candy stick kisses 'neath a wolf-dog moon One sweet breath and she'll take you, mister, to the upper room I was burned by the angels, sold wings of lead Then I fell in the roses and sweet salvation of Maria's bed

It's a fairytale so tragic There's no prince to break the spell I don't believe in magic But for you, I will

Now a life of leisure and a pirate's treasure Don't make much for tragedy But it's a sad man my friend who's livin' in his own skin And can't stand the company. Every fool's got a reason for feelin' sorry for himself And turning his heart to stone Tonight this fool's halfway to heaven and just a mile outta hell And I feel like I'm comin' home

Is it the sound of the leaves left blown by the wayside That's got me out here on this spooky old highway tonight Is it the cry of the river with the moonlight shining through That ain't what scares me baby, what scares me is losing you

Darlin' give me your kiss Come and take my hand I am the nothing man

Now there's a loss that can never be replaced A destination that can never be reached A light you'll never find in another's face A sea whose distance cannot be breached

They destroyed our families, factories And they took our homes They left our bodies on the plains The vultures picked our bones

Like a thief on Sunday morning It all falls apart with no warning

I got the fortunes of heaven in diamonds and gold I got all the bonds baby that the bank could hold I got houses 'cross the country honey end to end And everybody buddy wants to be my friend Well I got all the riches baby any man ever knew But the only thing I ain't got, honey, I ain't got you

Gray morning light spits through the shade Another day older, closer to the grave Closer to the grave and come the dawn I woke up this morning shackled and drawn

Now you play the loving woman, I'll play the faithful man But just don't look too close into the palm of my hand Well we stood at the alter, the gypsy swore our future was right But come the wee wee hours maybe baby the gypsy lied

You walk real pretty and you talk real fine But night after night babe I'm on the line

I'm counting on a miracle

Dancing down a dark hole Just searching for a world with some soul

Gambling man rolls the dice, workingman pays the bill It's still fat and easy up on banker's hill Up on banker's hill, the party's going strong Down here below we're shackled and drawn

Well, Jesus kissed his mother's hands Whispered, "Mother, still your tears For remember the soul of the universe Willed a world and it appeared

Come to the door, Ma, and unlock the chain I was just passing through and got caught in the rain There's nothing that I want, nothing that you need say Just let me lie down for a while and I'll be on my way

Your world keeps turning round and round But everything is upside down Your own worst enemy has come to town

Shackled and drawn, shackled and drawn Pick up the rock son, carry it on What's a poor boy to do in a world gone wrong? I woke up this morning shackled and drawn

And though my heart's grown weary And more than a little bit shy Tonight I'll drink from her waters to quench my thirst And leave the angels to worry With every wish

Rode through forty nights of the gospels' rain Black sky pourin' snakes frogs And love in vain You were down where the river grows wider Baby let me be your soul driver

Don't worry, darling No baby, don't you fret We're living in the future And none of this has happened yet

There's a lot of talk going around you Let them talk, you know you're the only one There's a lot of walls need tearing down Together we could take them down one by one

I could smell the same deep green of summer Above me the same night sky was glowing In the distance I could see the town where I was born

Oh feelin' like a real man I ain't no fighter that's easy to see And as a lover I ain't goin' down in history But when the lights go down and you pull me close Well I look in your eyes and there's one thing I know Baby I'll be tough enough If I can find the guts to give you all my love Then I'll be feelin' like a real man

I hold you in my arms as the band plays What are those words whispered baby just as you turn away I saw you last night out on the edge of town I wanna read your mind to know just what I've got in this new thing I've found

Maybe I'm just a clown throwin' down Lookin' to come up busted I'm a thief in the house of love And I can't be trusted Well I'll be makin' my heist In just another roll of the dice

Now I see your pieces crumbled, and our book of faith's been tossed And I'm just down here searching for my own piece of the cross

Pockets full of dust, my mouth filled with cool stone The pale moon opens the earth to its bones

raise your hand And together we'll walk into Canaan land

On the plains of Jordan I cut my bow from the wood Of this tree of evil Of this tree of good

Well my soul checked out missing as I sat listening To the hours and minutes tickin' away Yeah just sittin' around waitin' for my life to begin While it was all just slippin' away I'm tired of waitin' for tomorrow to come Or that train to come roarin' 'round the bend I got a new suit of clothes a pretty red rose And a woman I can call my friend

From a house on a hill a sacred light shines I walk through these rooms but none of them are mine Down empty hallways I went from door to door Searching for my beautiful reward

A little sweet talk to cover over all of the lies You came runnin' back but to my surprise Well there was somethin' gone in Gloria's eyes

Last night I stood at your doorstep Tryna figure out what went wrong You just slipped something into my palm, and you were gone

I sink beneath the river cool and clear Drifting down, I disappear I see you on the other side I search for the peace in your eyes

I had some victory that was just failure in deceit Now the joke's comin' up through the soles of my feet I been a long time walking on fortune's cane Tonight I'm sleepin' lightly and feelin' no pain

Better ask questions before you shoot Deceit and betrayal's a bitter fruit It's hard to swallow, come time to pay That taste on your tongue don't easily slip away Thy kingdom come, I'm going to find my way Yeah, through this lonesome day

Well there in the high trees love's bluebird glides Guiding us 'cross to another river on the other side And there someone is waitin' with a look in her eyes

Oh girl that feeling of safety you prize Well it comes with a hard hard price You can't shut off the risk and pain Without losin' the love that remains We're all riders on this train

I walk this road, with a hammer and a fiery lantern With this hand I've built, and with this I've burned I wanna live in the same house, beneath the same roof Sleep in the same bed, search for the same proof As Leah

I built a shrine in my heart it wasn't pretty to see Made out of fool's gold memory and tears cried Now I'm heading over the rise I'm searching for one clear moment of love and truth I still got a little faith But what I need is some proof tonight I'm lookin' for it in your eyes

I been out in the desert, yeah, doing my time Sifting through the dust for fool's gold, looking for a sign Holy man said "Hold on, brother, there's a light up ahead" Ain't nothing like a light that shines on me in Maria's bed

They say if you die in your dreams, you really die in your bed But honey last night I dreamed my eyes rolled straight back in my head And God's light came shinin' on through I woke up in the darkness scared and breathin' and born anew It wasn't the cold river bottom I felt rushing over me It wasn't the bitterness of a dream that didn't come true It wasn't the wind in the grey fields I felt rushing through my arms No no baby, baby it was you

Now if you're lookin' for a hero Someone to save the day Well darlin' my feet They're made of clay But I've got somethin' in my soul And I wanna give it up But gettin' up the nerve Gettin' up the nerve Gettin' up the nerve is a man's man's job

If the sun should fall from the sky tomorrow If the rain brings the tears to your eye, I would share your sorrow

I've stumbled and I know I made my mistakes But tonight I'm gonna be playin' for all of the stakes

Well, no cannonball did fly, no rifles cut us down No bombs fell from the sky, no blood soaked the ground No powder flash blinded the eye No deathly thunder sounded But just as sure as the hand of God They brought death to my hometown

With these hands We pray for the strength, Lord

On the road to Basra stood young Lieutenant Jimmy Bly Detailed to go through the clothes of the soldiers who died At night in dreams he sees their souls rise Like dark geese into the Oklahoma skies

Well your hair shone in the sun I was so high I was the lucky one Then I came crashing down like a drunk on a barroom floor Searching for my beautiful reward

I'll mow your lawn, clean the leaves out your drain I'll mend your roof to keep out the rain I'll take the work that God provides I'm a Jack of all trades, honey, we'll be alright

Past the playgrounds and empty switching yards The turtles eat the skin from your eyes, so they lay open to the stars

Me and my girl Saturday night Late movie on channel five The girls were droppin' they're droppin' like flies To some smooth talkin' cool walkin' private eye I ain't got no nerves of steel But all I got to know is if your love is real

Sleeping beauty awakes from her dream With her lover's kiss on her lips Your kiss was taken from me Now all I have is this

I put my heart and soul I put 'em high upon a shelf Right next to the faith the faith that I'd lost in myself I went down into the desert city Just tryin' so hard to shed my skin I crawled deep into some kind of darkness Lookin' to burn out every trace of who I'd been You do some sad sad things baby When it's you you're tryin' to lose You do some sad and hurtful things I've seen living proof

It was dark, too dark to see You held me in the light you gave You lay your hand on me Then walked into the darkness of your smoky grave

My life's the same story Again and again I' m on the outside looking in

My ship Liberty sailed away On a bloody red horizon The groundskeeper opened the gates And let the wild dogs run

Now you were the Red Sea I was Moses I kissed you and slipped into a bed of roses The waters parted and love rushed inside I was Jesus' son sanctified

Now the sweet bells of mercy Drift through the evening trees Young men on the corner Like scattered leaves

Around here everybody acts the same Around here everybody acts like nothing's changed

Oh there's somethin' in your soul That he's gonna rob And lovin' you baby lovin' you darlin' Lovin' you woman is a man's man's job

Well now all that's sure on the boulevard Is that life is just a house of cards As fragile as each and every breath Of this boy sleepin' in our bed

He pulls a prayer book out of his sleeping bag Preacher lights up a butt and he takes a drag Waiting for when the last shall be first and the first shall be last In a cardboard box 'neath the underpass

Now the world is filled with many wonders under the passing sun And sometimes something comes along, and you know it's for sure the only one The Mona Lisa, the David, the Sistine Chapel, Jesus, Mary, and Joe And when they built you, brother, they broke the mold

You said my act was funny but we both knew what was missing, honey

Tonight I can feel the cold wind at my back I'm flying high over gray fields my feathers long and black Down along the river's silent edge I soar Searching for my beautiful reward

Now get yourself a song to sing and sing it till you're done Sing it hard and sing it well Send the robber barons straight to hell

I'm just a lonely pilgrim, I walk this world in wealth I want to know if it's you I don't trust 'cause I damn sure don't trust myself

This is radio nowhere Is there anybody alive out there?

All over the world the rain was pourin' I was scratchin' where it itched Oh heartbreak and despair got nothing but boring So I grabbed you baby like a wild pitch

Tonight our bed is cold, I'm lost in the darkness of our love God have mercy on the man who doubts what he's sure of

Well I've been a losin' gambler Just throwin' snake eyes Love ain't got me downhearted I know up around the corner lies My fool's paradise In just another roll of the dice

The Virginia hills have gone to brown Another day, another sun going down I visit you in another dream

When they built you, brother, they turned dust into gold When they built you, brother, they broke the mold

It's coming on closing time Bartender, he's ringin' last call These days I don't stand on pride I ain't afraid to take a fall

They say you can't take it with you, but I think that they're wrong Because all I know is I woke up this morning, and something big was gone Gone into that dark ether where you're still young and hard and cold Just like when they built you, brother, they broke the mold

You'll be fine long as your pretty face holds out Then it's going to get pretty cold out

You and me we were the pretenders We let it all slip away In the end what you don't surrender Well the world just strips away

So when you look at me you better look hard and look twice Is that me baby or just a brilliant disguise

You can't sleep at night You can't dream your dream Your fingerprints on file Left clumsily at the scene

On his right hand, Billy'd tattooed the word "love", on his left hand was the word "fear" And in which hand he held his fate was never clear Come Indian summer, he took his young lover for his bride And with his own hands built her a great house down by the riverside

We've got God on our side We're just trying to survive What if what you do to survive Kills the things you love

Now my ass was draggin' when from a passin' gypsy wagon Your heart like a diamond shone Tonight I'm layin' in your arms carvin' lucky charms Out of these hard luck bones

It'll take your God-filled soul Fill it with devils and dust

I'm driving a big lazy car rushin' up the highway in the dark I got one hand steady on the wheel and one hand's tremblin' over my heart It's pounding baby like it's gonna bust right on through And it ain't gonna stop till I'm alone again with you

For all the blown-off strangers and hot rod angels Stumbling through this promised land Tonight my baby and me we're gonna ride to the sea And wash these sins off our hands

But they're as empty as paradise

Quiet afternoon in the empty house On the edge of the bed, you slip off your blouse The room is burning with the noon sun Your bittersweet taste on my tongue

Well now our old fears and failures, oh baby, they do linger Like the shadow of that ring that was on your finger

Well by Our Lady Of The Roses we lived in the shadow of the elms I remember ma dragging me and my sister up the street to the church whenever she heard those wedding bells Well would they ever look so happy again yeah the handsome groom and his bride As they stepped into that long black limousine for their mystery ride Well tonight you step away from me and alone at the alter I stand As I watch my bride coming down the aisle I pray for the strength to walk like a man

You got a one-way ticket to the promised land You got a hole in your belly and a gun in your hand Sleeping on a pillow of solid rock Bathing in the city's aqueduct

You might need somethin' to hold on to When all the answers they don't amount to much Somebody that you can just talk to And a little of that human touch

Easy street, a quick buck, and true lies Smiles as thin as those dusky blue skies

I'm running through the forest With this wolf at my heels My king is lost at midnight When the tower bells peal

Forty-one shots and we'll take that ride Across the bloody river to the other side Forty-one shots cut through the night You're kneeling over his body in the vestibule Praying for his life

Let your mind rest easy Sleep well my friend It's only our bodies that betray us in the end

Well now the years have gone and I've grown yeah from that seed you've sown But I didn't think there'd been so many steps I'd have to learn on my own Well I was young and I didn't know what to do when I saw your best steps stolen away from you Now I'll do what I can, I'll walk like a man And I'll keep on walking

I got a house full of Rembrandt and priceless art And all the little girls, they wanna tear me apart When I walk down the street, people stop and stare Well, you'd think I might be thrilled but baby I don't care 'Cause I got more good luck honey than old King Farouk But the only thing I ain't got, baby, I ain't got you

Coming from the city, coming from the wild I see a breathless army breaking like a cloud They're going to smother love, they're going to shoot your hopes Before the meek inherit they'll learn to hate themselves

Got on a dead man's suit and a smiling skull ring Lucky graveyard boots and a song to sing I keep my heart in my work, my troubles in my head And I keep my soul in Maria's bed

"Every cloud has a silver lining, every dog has his day" She said "Now don't say nothing If you don't have something nice to say

Now Billy was an honest man, he wanted to do what was right He worked hard to fill their lives with happy days and loving night Alone on his knees in the darkness for steadiness he'd pray For he knew in a restless heart the seed of betrayal lay

Whose blood will spill, whose heart will break Who'll be the last to die for a mistake

Well I awoke last night in the dark and dreamy deep From my head to my feet my body's gone stone cold There were worms crawling all around me My fingers scratching at an earth black and six foot low Alone in the blackness of my grave Alone I'd been left to die Then I heard voices calling all around me The earth rose above me My eyes filled with sky

Plastics, wire and your kiss The breath of eternity on your lips

For a while you'll go sparkling by Just another pretty thing on high

Don't know when this chance might come again Good times got a way of coming to an end

I search for you on the other side Where the river runs clean and wide Up to my heart, the waters rise

Hell's brewing, dark sun's on the rise This storm will blow through, by and by House is on fire, vipers in the grass Little revenge and this too shall pass This too shall pass, darling, yeah I'm going to pray Right now, all I got is this lonesome day

I love to see your hair shining In the long summer's light I love to watch the stars fill the sky On a summer night The music plays you take his hand I watch how you touch him as you start to dance And I wish I were blind When I see you with your man

Rising from a long night as dark as the grave On a thin chain of next moments and something like faith

Ain't no church bells ringing Ain't no flags unfurled Just me and you and the love we're bringing Into the real world

A silver plate of pearls, my golden child It's all yours, at least for a little while

I got a picture of you in my locket I keep it close to my heart This light shining in my breast Leading me through the dark

The times, they got too clear So you removed all the mirrors Once the family felt secure Now no one's very sure

I've got my finger on the trigger And tonight faith just ain't enough When I look inside my heart There's just devils and dust

I feel my soul waist deep and sinking Into this black river of doubt

Where the road is dark and the seed is sowed Where the gun is cocked and the bullet's cold Where the miles are marked in blood and gold I'll meet you further on up the road

In the garden at Gethsemane He prayed for the life he'd never live He beseeched his Heavenly Father to remove The cup of death from his lips

I love to see the cottonwood blossom In the early spring I love to see the message of love That the bluebird brings But when I see you walkin' with him Down along the strand I wish I were blind When I see you with your man

I hold you in my arms, yeah that's when it starts I seek faith in your kiss and comfort in your heart Taste the seed upon your lips, lay my tongue upon your scars When I look into your eyes and we stand worlds apart

Now's there's tears on the pillow, darling, where we slept And you took my heart when you left Without your sweet kiss my soul is lost, my friend Tell me how do I begin again?

May your strength give us strength May your faith give us faith May your hope give us hope May your love give us love

We took the highway till the road went black We marked 'Truth Or Consequences' on our map

We'll let blood build a bridge over mountains draped in stars I'll meet you on the ridge between these worlds apart We've got this moment now to live, then it's all just dust and dark Let's let love give what it gives

Now no one knows which way love's wheel turns Will we hit it rich Or crash and burn Does fortune wait or just the black hand of fate This love potion's all we've got One toast before it's too late

And the things of the earth, they make their claim That the things of heaven may do the same

God's drifting in heaven, devil's in the mailbox I got dust on my shoes, nothing but teardrops

I got a pound of caviar sitting home on ice I got a fancy foreign car that rides like paradise I got a hundred pretty women knockin' down my door And folks wanna kiss me I ain't even seen before I been around the world and all across the seven seas Been paid a king's ransom for doin' what comes naturally But I'm still the biggest fool, honey, this world ever knew 'Cause the only thing I ain't got, baby, I ain't got you

But love is a power greater than death, just like the songs and stories told And when she built you, brother, she broke the mold

Well, big wheels roll through fields where sunlight streams Meet me in a land of hope and dreams

Alone I limp through town A lost cowboy at sundown Got my monkey on a leash Got my ear tuned to the ground My faith's been torn asunder Tell me is that rolling thunder Or just the sinking sound Of something righteous going under

Men walking 'long the railroad tracks Going someplace, there's no going back Highway patrol choppers coming up over the ridge Hot soup on a campfire under the bridge Shelter line stretching 'round the corner Welcome to the new world order Families sleeping in the cars in the southwest No home, no job, no peace, no rest

Sometimes the truth just ain't enough Or is it too much in times like this Let's throw the truth away, we'll find it in this kiss In your skin upon my skin in the beating of our hearts May the living let us in before the dead tear us apart

So hold me close honey, say you're forever mine And tell me you'll be my lonely valentine

There's spirits above and behind me Faces gone black, eyes burning bright May their precious blood bind me Lord, as I stand before your fiery light

Girl ain't no kindness in the face of strangers Ain't gonna find no miracles here Well you can wait on your blessings darlin' But I got a deal for you right here

Familiar faces around me Laughter fills the air Your loving grace surrounds me Everybody's here Furniture's out on the front porch Music's up loud I dream of you in my arms I lose myself in the crowd

Woke up election day Sky's gunpowder and shades of grey Beneath the dirty sun I whistle my time away Then just about sundown You come walking through town Your boot heels clicking like The barrel of a pistol spinning round

Well, it ain't no secret I've been around a time or two Well, I don't know baby maybe you've been around too Well, there's another dance All you gotta do is say yes And if you're rough and ready for love Honey, I'm tougher than the rest

The fuse is burning Shut out the lights The fuse is burning Come on let me do you right

When I look at myself I don't see The man I wanted to be Somewhere 'long the line I slipped off track I'm caught moving one step up and two steps back

Days just keep on falling Your voice it keeps on calling I'm going to dig right here until I get you back

I was driving through the misty rain Just a-searching for a mystery train Bopping through the wild blue Trying to make a connection with you

It's been a long long drought baby Tonight the rain's pourin' down on our roof Looking for a little bit of God's mercy I found living proof

I always loved the feel of sweat on my shirt Stand back son and let a man work

Well, it's Saturday night You're all dressed up in blue I been watching you awhile Maybe you been watching me, too So somebody ran out Left somebody's heart in a mess Well, if you're looking for love Honey, I'm tougher than the rest

It's been a long time coming, my dear It's been a long time coming, but now it's here

It takes a leap of faith to get things going It takes a leap of faith you gotta show some guts It takes a leap of faith to get things going In your heart you must trust

Fear's a powerful thing, baby It can turn your heart black, you can trust It'll take your God-filled soul And fill it with devils and dust

Well above the stars they crackle and fire A dead man's moon throws seven rings We'd put our ears to the cold grave stones This is the song they'd sing

A letter come blowing in On an ill wind Something about me and you Never seeing one another again And what I knew had come Stars struck deaf and dumb Like when we kissed That taste of blood on your tongue

The sun sets in flames as the city burns Another day gone down as the night turns And I hold you here in my heart As things fall apart

Now the ritual begins 'Neath the wedding garland we meet as strangers The dance floor is alive with beauty Mystery and danger We dance out 'neath the stars' ancient light into the darkening trees Oh won't you baby be in my book of dreams

For you I'll build a house High upon a grassy hill Somewhere across the border Where pain and memory Pain and memory have been stilled There, across the border And sweet blossoms fill the air Pastures of gold and green Roll down into cool clear waters And in your arms beneath open skies I'll kiss the sorrow from your eyes There, across the border

An endless stream of stars shooting by You got your hopes on high

I ain't lookin' for prayers or pity I ain't comin' 'round searchin' for a crutch I just want someone to talk to And a little of that human touch

World peace gonna break out From here on in, we're eating take out

Tonight the moon's looking young but I'm feelin' younger 'Neath a veil of dreams sweet blessings rain Honey I can feel the first breeze of summer And in your love I'm born again

I see you Mary in the garden In the garden of a thousand sighs There's holy pictures of our children Dancing in a sky filled with light

I got a big diamond watch sittin' on my wrist I try to tempt you, baby, but you just resist I made a deal with the devil, babe, I won't deny Until I got you in my arms, I can't be satisfied

And though this world is filled With the grace and beauty of God's hand Oh I wish I were blind When I see you with your man

The sky was falling And streaked with blood I heard you calling me Then you disappeared into the dust

Well, you get so sick of the fighting You lose your fear of the end But I can't lose your memory And the sweet smell of your skin

Love leaves nothin' but shadows and vapor We go on, as is our sad nature, baby

And we're walkin' on the wildside, runnin' down a one way street

You're dancin' with him he's holding you tight I'm standing here waitin' to catch your eye Your hand's on his neck as the music sways All my illusions slip away

If I'm going to live I'll lift my life Darling, to you

The scars we carry remain but the pain slips away it seems Oh won't you baby be in my book of dreams

So listen up, my sonny boy, be ready when they come For they'll be returning sure as the rising sun

I woke up this morning I could barely breathe Just an empty impression In the bed where you used to be I want a kiss from your lips I want an eye for an eye I woke up this morning to an empty sky

The earth, it gave away The sea rose towards the sun I opened up my heart to you It got all damaged and undone

May I feel your arms around me May I feel your blood mix with mine A dream of life comes to me Like a catfish dancing on the end of the line

Now your legs were heaven your breasts were the altar Your body was the holy land You shouted "jump" but my heart faltered You laughted and said "Baby don't you understand?"

I can't sleep so I lay awake listenin' to the sounds of the city below I get dressed and walk the streets but I got nowhere to go

Feelin' like a real man Well you can beat on your chest Hell any monkey can

These days I sit around and laugh At the many rivers I've crossed But on the far banks there's always another forest Where a man can get lost

We struggle here but all our love's in vain Oh these eyes that once filled me with your beauty Now fill me with pain And the light that once entered here Is banished from me And this darkness is all baby that my heart sees

Well if something in the air feels a little unkind Don't worry darlin' It'll slip your mind I'll be your gypsy joker your shotgun rider Baby let me be your soul driver

Well this is a prayer for the souls of the departed Those who've gone and left their babies brokenhearted

I was your big man I was your prince charming King on a white horse hey now look how far I've fallen I tried to trick you yeah but baby you got wise You cut me cut me right right down to size Now I'm just a fool in Gloria's eyes

I been up on sugar mountain, 'cross the sweet blue sea I walked the valley of love and tears and mystery I got run out'a luck and gave myself up for dead And I drank the cool clear waters from Maria's bed

And when that train comes we'll get on board And steal what we can from the treasures treasures of the Lord

A half-drunk beer and your breath in my ear At the Moonlight Motel

American beauty will you be mine Out on this highway counting white lines

And it’s all lies but I’m strung out on the wire In these streets of fire

and it’s one false move and baby the lights go out

And she’s so pretty that you’re lost in the star

And the world is busting at its seams And you’re just a prisoner of your dreams

And you’re in love with all the wonder it brings And every muscle in your body sings as the highway ignites

As you jockey your way through the cars And sit at the light, as it changes to green With your faith in your machine off you scream into the night

At night I wake up with the sheets soaking wet And a freight train running through the middle of my head

At night sometimes it seemed You could hear the whole damn city crying

Barefoot girl sitting on the hood of a Dodge Drinking warm beer in the soft summer rain

Blame it on the lies that killed us, Blame it on the truth that ran us down

But all her pretty dreams are torn, She stares off alone into the night

But I ride by night and I travel in fear That in this darkness I will disappear

But they said, “Johnny, it falls apart so easily, and you know hearts these days are cheap”

But tonight you’re gonna break on through to the inside

But your eyes go blind and your blood runs cold

Calling and calling so cold and alone Shining cross this dark highway where our sins lie unatoned

Dress in the latest rage

Driving all night, chasing some mirage

Eat at your insides and leave you face to face with Streets of fire

Everything dies baby that’s a fact But maybe everything that dies someday comes back

Explode and tear this old town apart Take a knife and cut this pain from my heart

For one kiss, darling I swear everything I would give Cause you’re a walking, talking reason to live

from the dark heart of a dream

From your front porch to my front seat, The door’s open but the ride ain’t free

He tried sellin’ his heart to the hard girls over on Easy Street

I don’t give a damn For the same old played out scenes Baby, I don’t give a damn For just the in-betweens Honey

I hear that whistle whining I feel her kiss in the misty rain And I feel like I’m a rider on a downbound train

I lie awake in the middle of the night Makin’ a list of things that I didn’t do right With you at the top of a long page filled

I see that lonely ribbon in your hair Tell me am I the man for whom you put it there

I took a wrong turn and I just kept going

I walk with angels that have no place

I’m a rolling stone just rolling on Catch me now ‘cause tomorrow I’ll be gone

I’m caught in a cross fire That I don’t understand

I’m twenty five hundred miles from where I wanna be It feels like a hundred years since you’ve been near to me

In this house it’s so easy to set a world on fire, All you need is the need and the money and a soul full of reckless desire

In this house the guilty go unpunished and blood and silence prevail, Here the dead remain nameless, the nameless remain jailed

It’s a long dark highway and a thin white line Connecting baby, your heart to mine, We’re runnin’ now but darlin’ we will stand in time

Just the false taste of paradise and then the fall

Kids flash guitars just like switch-blades

Let your hair down sugar and pick up this beat, Come on and meet me tonight down on Bluebird Street

Like soldiers in the winter’s night with a vow to defend No retreat, baby, no surrender

Lonely-hearted lovers  Struggle in dark corners   Soul engines running through a night so tender

Man I ain’t getting nowhere I’m just living in a dump like this There’s something happening somewhere baby I just know that there is

My brain takes a vacation just to give my heart more room

My kisses used to turn you inside out

Now the heart’s unsteady, and the night is still All I’ve got’s this melody, and time to kill

Oh-oh come take my hand, We’re riding out tonight to case the promised land, Oh-oh-oh-oh Thunder Road

Outside the street’s on fire In a real death waltz Between what’s flesh and what’s fantasy And the poets down here Don’t write nothing at all They just stand back and let it all be

Radio’s jammed up with talk show stations It’s just talk, talk, talk till you lose your patience

remember last summer drifting through our eyes

Show a little faith there’s magic in the night, You ain’t a beauty but hey you’re alright

So come close my pretty darling and let me feel your disease, Tonight I’ll have you naked and crawling at the end of my leash

So you fell for some jerk who was tall, dark and handsome Then he kidnapped your heart and now he’s holdin’ it for ransom

Sometimes it’s like someone took a knife, baby, edgy and dull And cut a six-inch valley through the middle of my skull

Standing in that doorway like a dream

Talk about a dream Try to make it real You wake up in the night With a fear so real

That secret pact you made Back when her love could save you From the bitterness

That thunder in your heart At night when you’re kneeling in the dark It says you’re never gonna leave her But there’s this angel in her eyes That tells such desperate lies And all you want to do is believe her

The book of love holds its rules Disobeyed by fools

The hungry and the hunted Explode into rock'n'roll bands That face off against each other out in the street Down in Jungleland

The rat traps filled with soul crusaders, The circuits lined and jammed with chromed invaders

The screen door slams, Mary’s dress waves Like a vision, she dances across the porch As the radio plays Roy Orbison singing for the lonely, Hey that’s me and I want you only

The teenage tramps in skin-tight pants do the E Street dance

There were ghosts in the eyes Of all the boys you sent away, They haunt this dusty beach road In the skeleton frames of burned-out Chevrolets.

There’s a darkness on the edge of town

there’s a joke here somewhere and it’s on me

There’s a war outside still raging You say it ain’t ours anymore to win

Theres a sadness hidden in that pretty face, a sadness all her own, from which no man can keep Candy safe

These days you don’t wait on Romeo’s you wait on that welfare check

They say in the end true love prevails But in the end true love can’t be no fairytale

They say you gotta stay hungry hey baby I’m just about starving tonight

They scream your name at night in the street, Your graduation gown lies in rags at their feet, And in the lonely cool before dawn, You hear their engines roaring on, When you get to the porch they’re gone On the wind

True love is broken and your tears are fallin’ faster You’re sufferin’ from a pain in your heart or some other natural disaster

Two hearts are better than one, Two hearts girl get the job done

Waiting for the bells that ring In the deep heart of the night

Waste your summer praying in vain, For a saviour to rise from these streets

We got married, and swore we’d never part Then little by little we drifted from each other’s hearts

We got one last chance to make it real, To trade in these wings on some wheels, Climb in back, Heaven’s waiting down on the tracks

We kiss, my hearts pumpin to my brain the blood rushes in my veins, when I touch Candys lips, We go driving, driving deep into the night, I go driving deep into the light, in Candys eyes

We shut ‘em up and than we shut ‘em down

we’re gonna ride to the sea And wash these sins off our hands.

Well I saw you last night down on the avenue Your face was in the shadows but I knew that it was you You were standin’ in the doorway out of the rain You didn’t answer when I called out your name You just turned, and then you looked away like just another stranger waitin’ to get blown away

Well the night’s busting open, These two lanes will take us anywhere

Well, everybody’s got a secret, Sonny, Something that they just can’t face, Some folks spend their whole lives trying to keep it, They carry it with them every step that they take.

Well, I believe in the love that you gave me I believe in the faith that can save me

Where we swore forever friends On the backstreets until the end

With a love so hard and filled with defeat

With her long hair falling And her eyes that shine like a midnight sun Oh she’s the one

Words were passed in a shotgun blast

You can hide 'neath your covers, And study your pain, Make crosses from your lovers, Throw roses in the rain

You can’t judge an apple by looking at a tree, You can’t judge honey by looking at the bee,  You can’t judge a daughter by looking at the mother, You can’t judge a book by looking at the cover

You don’t have to call me lieutenant, Rosie, and I don’t want to be your son

You end up like a dog that’s been beat too much Till you spend half your life just covering up

You inherit the sins, you inherit the flames, Adam raised a Cain

You know it’s never over, it’s relentless as the rain, Daddy worked his whole life, for nothing but the pain

You never smile girl, you never speak You just walk on by, darlin’, week after week

You pulled my jacket off and as the drummer counted four You grabbed my hand and pulled me out on the floor You just stood there and held me, then you started dancin’ slow And as I pulled you tighter I swore I’d never let you go

You sit and wonder just who’s gonna stop the rain Who’ll ease the sadness, who’s gonna quiet the pain

You wake up and you’re dying you don’t even know what from

You walk cool, but darlin’, can you walk the

You walk too far, you walk away Hello sunshine, won’t you stay

I thought I knew just who I was And what I’d do but I was wrong One minute you’re here Next minute you’re gone

Footsteps cracklin’ on a gravel road Stars vanish in a sky as black as stone

In the afternoon 'neath the summer sun We’d lie by the lake till the evening comes I run my fingers through your sun-streaked hair Baby, that’s the power of prayer

It’s a fixed game without any rules An empty table on a ship of fools I’m holding hearts, I’ll play the pair Darling, it’s just the power of prayer

I’m holding hearts, I’ll play the pair I’m goin’ all in 'cause I don’t care

I’m reaching for heaven, we’ll make it there

Zero’s my number, time is my hunter I wanted you to heal me but instead you set me on fire We were out over the borders, I washed you in holy water We whispered our black prayers and rose up in flames Take me on your burnin’ train

White sun burnin’, black wings beatin’

With our shared faith Rising dark and decayed Take me and shake me from this mortal cage

On your bed of thorns, I brought you shining gifts Wiped the sweat from your brow and I touched your lips Sheets stained with sweat, outside the endless rain Darlin’, I’m blessed in your blood and marked by Cain

Tried to summon all that my heart finds true And send it in my letter to you

Things I found out through hard times and good I wrote 'em all out in ink and blood Dug deep in my soul and signed my name true And sent it in my letter to you

I took all the sunshine and rain All my happiness and all my pain The dark evening stars and the morning sky of blue And I sent it in my letter to you

There’s a light on yonder mountain And it’s calling me to shine There’s a girl over by the water fountain And she’s asking to be mine

Well sweet Virgin Mary runs the Holy Grail saloon Well for a nickel she’ll give you whiskey and a personally blessed balloon

And the Holy Ghost is the host with the most, he runs the burlesque show Where they’ll let you in for free and they hit you when you go

Mary serving Mass on Sunday and she sells her body on Monday To the bootlegger who paid the highest price He don’t know he got stuck with a loser, she’s a stone junkie what’s more she’s a user She’s only been made once or twice by some kind of magic

If Jesus was a sheriff and I were a priest If my lady was an heiress and my Mama was a thief And Papa rode shotgun on the Fargo line There’s still too many outlaws trying to work the same line

Well things ain’t been the same in heaven since Big Bad Bobby came to town He’s been known to down eleven, then ask for another round

Me I’ve got scabs on my knees from kneeling way too long It’s about time I played the man, took a stand where I belong

And I forget about the old friends and the old times There’s just too many new boys trying to work the same line

Hands raised to Yahweh to bring the rain down He comes crawlin’ 'cross the dry fields like a dark shroud

Rainmaker, a little faith for hire Rainmaker, the house is on fire Rainmaker, take everything you have Sometimes folks need to believe in something so bad, so bad,

Rainmaker says white’s black and black’s white Says night’s day and day’s night Says close your eyes and go to sleep now I’m in a burnin’ field unloadin’ buckshot into low clouds

The blood moon shines across the vale Bells ring out through churches and jails I tally my wounds and count the scars Here in the house of a thousand guitars

The criminal clown has stolen the throne He steals what he can never own May the truth ring out from every small-town bar We’ll light up the house of a thousand guitars

Here the bitter and the bored Wake in search of the lost chord That’ll band us together for as long as there’s stars Here in the house of a thousand guitars

So wake and shake off your troubles, my friend We’ll go where the music never ends From the stadiums to the small-town bars We’ll light up the house of a thousand guitars

The road is long and seeming without end The days go on, I remember you my friend And though you’re gone and my heart’s been emptied it seems I’ll see you in my dreams

I’ll see you in my dreams when all our summers have come to an end I’ll see you in my dreams, we’ll meet and live and laugh again I’ll see you in my dreams, yeah around the river bend For death is not the end

Well how many wasted have I seen signed “Hollywood or bust” And left to ride the ever ghostly Arizona gusts Cheerleader tramps and kids with big amps sounding in the void High society vamps, ex-heavyweight champs mistaking soot for soil

Well sons they search for fathers, but the fathers are all gone The lost souls search for saviors, but saviors don’t last long

Those aimless questless renegade brats who live their lives in song They run the length of a candle, with a goodnight whisper and they’re gone

Believe me my good Linda, the aurora will shine the way

Those orphans jumped on silver mountains lost in celestial alleyways They wait for that old tramp Dog Man Moses, he takes in all the strays

Now don’t you grow on empty legends or lonely cradle songs Billy the Kid was just a bowery boy who made a living twirling his guns

The night she’s long and lanky and she speaks in a mother tongue She lullabies the refugees with amplifier’s hum

I hear the sound of your guitar Comin’ in from the mystic far Stone and the gravel in your voice Come in my dreams and I rejoice

It’s your ghost Moving through the night Spirit filled with light

Count the band in then kick into overdrive By the end of the set we leave no one alive

I shoulder your Les Paul and finger the fretboard I make my vows to those who’ve come before I turn up the volume, let the spirits be my guide Meet you brother and sister on the other side

All the redemption I can offer girl Is beneath this dirty hood

[celticcrossanon]

Full Order of Service (as the one below is missing pages)

from https://abcnews.go.com/Entertainment/wireStory/order-service-funeral-prince-philip-77134393

LONDON -- This is the Order of Service for the funeral of Prince Philip on Saturday:

ORDER OF SERVICE

All stand. The Coffin is removed from the Land Rover and is carried to the West Steps where it rests at 3pm for the one minute National Silence.

The Coffin is then carried to the Catafalque in the Quire.

Members of the Royal Family who have walked in the Procession are conducted to their places in the Quire.

Meanwhile, the choir sings

THE SENTENCES

I AM the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.

John 11. 25-26

I KNOW that my redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth: and though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God: Whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes shall behold, and not another.

Job 19. 25-27

WE brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out. The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.

1 Timothy 6. 7, Job 1. 21

William Croft (1678-1727)

All remain standing. The Dean of Windsor shall say

THE BIDDING

WE are here today in St George’s Chapel to commit into the hands of God the soul of his servant Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh. With grateful hearts, we remember the many ways in which his long life has been a blessing to us. We have been inspired by his unwavering loyalty to our Queen, by his service to the Nation and the Commonwealth, by his courage, fortitude and faith. Our lives have been enriched through the challenges that he has set us, the encouragement that he has given us, his kindness, humour and humanity. We therefore pray that God will give us grace to follow his example, and that, with our brother Philip, at the last, we shall know the joys of life eternal.

All sit. The choir sings

ETERNAL Father, strong to save,

Whose arm doth bind the restless wave,

Who bidd’st the mighty ocean deep

Its own appointed limits keep;

O hear us when we cry to thee

For those in peril on the sea.

O Saviour, whose almighty word

The winds and waves submissive heard,

Who walkedst on the foaming deep,

And calm amid its rage didst sleep:

O hear us when we cry to thee

For those in peril on the sea.

O sacred Spirit, who didst brood

Upon the chaos dark and rude,

Who bad’st its angry tumult cease,

And gavest light and life and peace:

O hear us when we cry to thee

For those in peril on the sea.

O Trinity of love and power,

Our brethren shield in danger’s hour;

From rock and tempest, fire and foe,

Protect them whereso’er they go:

And ever let there rise to thee

Glad hymns of praise from land and sea.

Melita by J. B. Dykes (1823-76) William Whiting (1825-78)

Arranged by James Vivian (b. 1974)5

All remain seated.

THE FIRST LESSON

Ecclesiasticus 43. 11-26

read by the Dean of Windsor

LOOK at the rainbow and praise its Maker; it shines with a supreme beauty, rounding the sky with its gleaming arc, a bow bent by the hands of the Most High. His command speeds the snow storm and sends the swift lightning to execute his sentence. To that end the storehouses are opened, and the clouds fly out like birds. By his mighty power the clouds are piled up and the hailstones broken small. The crash of his thunder makes the earth writhe, and, when he appears, an earthquake shakes the hills. At his will the south wind blows, the squall from the north and the hurricane. He scatters the snow-flakes like birds alighting; they settle like a swarm of locusts. The eye is dazzled by their beautiful whiteness, and as they fall the mind is entranced. He spreads frost on the earth like salt, and icicles form like pointed stakes. A cold blast from the north, and ice grows hard on the water, settling on every pool, as though the water were putting on a breastplate. He consumes the hills, scorches the wilderness, and withers the grass like fire. Cloudy weather quickly puts all to rights, and dew brings welcome relief after heat. By the power of his thought he tamed the deep and planted it with islands. Those who sail the sea tell stories of its dangers, which astonish all who hear them; in it are strange and wonderful creatures, all kinds of living things and huge sea-monsters. By his own action he achieves his end, and by his word all things are held together.

All remain seated as the choir sings

THE JUBILATE

O BE joyful in the Lord, all ye lands:

serve the Lord with gladness,

and come before his presence with a song.

Be ye sure that the Lord he is God:

it is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves;

we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.

O go your way into his gates with thanksgiving,

and into his courts with praise:

be thankful unto him, and speak good of his Name.

For the Lord is gracious, his mercy is everlasting:

and his truth endureth from generation to generation.

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son: and to the Holy Ghost;

As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be:

world without end. Amen.

Benjamin Britten (1913-76), in C

Written for St George’s Chapel, Windsor at the request of The Duke of Edinburgh

All remain seated.

THE SECOND LESSON

John 11. 21-27

read by the Archbishop of Canterbury

MARTHA said to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. And even now I know that whatever you ask from God, God will give you.” Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.” Martha said to him, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day.” Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and whoever lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?” She said to him, “Yes, Lord; I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, he who is coming into the world.”

All remain seated as the choir sings

PSALM 104

The Duke of Edinburgh requested that Psalm 104 should be set to music by William Lovelady.

Originally composed as a cantata in three movements, it was first sung in honour of His Royal Highness’s 75th Birthday.

MY SOUL give praise unto the Lord of heaven,

In majesty and honour clothed;

The earth he made will not be moved,

The seas he made to be its robe. Give praise.

The waters rise above the highest mountain,

And flow down to the vales and leas;

At springs, wild asses quench their thirst,

And birds make nest amid the trees.

The trees the Lord has made are full of vigour,

The fir tree is a home for storks;

Wild goats find refuge in the hills,

From foes the conies shelter in the rocks.

My soul give praise unto the Lord of heaven,

In majesty and honour clothed;

The earth he made will not be moved,

The seas he made to be its robe. Give praise.7

O Lord, how manifold is your creation,

All things in wisdom you provide;

You give your riches to the earth,

And to the sea so great and wide.

You take your creatures breath and life is ended,

Your breath goes forth and life begins;

Your hand renews the face of earth,

Your praise my whole life I will sing.

My soul give praise unto the Lord of heaven,

In majesty and honour clothed;

The earth he made will not be moved,

The seas he made to be its robe. Give praise.

William Lovelady (b. 1945) abridged and arranged for choir and organ by James Vivian (b. 1974) with the composer’s permission

Words from Psalm 104, adapted by Sam Dyer (b. 1945)

The choir sings

THE LESSER LITANY

Let us pray.

All sit or kneel.

LORD, have mercy upon us.

Christ, have mercy upon us.

Lord, have mercy upon us.

THE LORD’S PRAYER

OUR Father, which art in heaven,

Hallowed be thy Name;

Thy kingdom come;

Thy will be done in earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread.

And forgive us our trespasses,

As we forgive them that trespass against us.

And lead us not into temptation;

But deliver us from evil. Amen.

THE RESPONSES

ENTER not into judgement with thy servant, O Lord.

For in thy sight shall no man living be justified.

Grant unto him eternal rest.

And let light perpetual shine upon him.

We believe verily to see the goodness of the Lord.

In the land of the living.

O Lord, hear our prayer.

And let our cry come unto thee.

William Smith (1603-45), adapted by Roger Judd, MVO (b. 1944)

The Lord’s Prayer, Music by Robert Stone (1516-1613) from John Day’s Certaine Notes 1565

THE COLLECT

The Dean of Windsor shall say

O MERCIFUL God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who is the resurrection and the life; in whom whosoever believeth shall live, though he die; and whosoever liveth, and believeth in him, shall not die eternally; who also hath taught us by his Holy Apostle Saint Paul, not to be sorry, as men without hope, for them that sleep in him: We meekly beseech thee, O Father that, when we shall depart this life, we may rest in him, as our hope is this our brother doth; and that, at the general resurrection in the last day, we may be found acceptable in thy sight; and receive that blessing, which thy well-beloved Son shall then pronounce to all that love and fear thee, saying, Come ye blessed children of my Father; receive the kingdom prepared for you from the beginning of the world. Grant this we beseech thee, O merciful Father through Jesus Christ, our Mediator and Redeemer. Amen.

THE PRAYERS

The Archbishop of Canterbury shall say

O ETERNAL God, before whose face the generations rise and pass away, thyself unchanged, abiding, we bless thy holy name for all who have completed their earthly course in thy faith and following, and are now at rest; we remember before thee this day Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, rendering thanks unto thee-for his resolute faith and loyalty, for his high sense of duty and integrity, for his life of service to the Nation and Commonwealth, and for the courage and inspiration of his leadership. To him, with all the faithful departed, grant thy peace; Let light perpetual shine upon them; and in thy loving wisdom and almighty power work in them the good purpose of thy perfect will; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

The Dean of Windsor, Register of the Most Noble Order of the Garter, shall say

O LORD, who didst give to thy servant Saint George grace to lay aside the fear of man, and to be faithful even unto death: Grant that we, unmindful of worldly honour, may fight the wrong, uphold thy rule, and serve thee to our lives’ end; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

GOD save our gracious Sovereign and all the Companions, living and departed, of the Most Honourable and Noble Order of The Garter. Amen.

O GOD of the spirits of all flesh, we praise thy holy name for thy servant Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, who has left us a fair pattern of valiant and true knighthood; grant unto him the assurance of thine ancient promise that thou wilt ever be with those who go down to the sea in ships and occupy their business in great waters. And we beseech thee that, following his good example and strengthened by his fellowship, we may at the last, together with him, be partakers of thy heavenly kingdom; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

The Archbishop of Canterbury shall say

O LORD God, when thou givest to thy servants to endeavour any great matter, grant us also to know that it is not the beginning, but the continuing of the same unto the end, until it be thoroughly finished, which yieldeth the true glory; through him, who for the finishing of thy work laid down his life, our Redeemer, Jesus Christ. Amen.

ALMIGHTY God, Father of all mercies and giver of all comfort: Deal graciously, we pray thee, with those who mourn; that casting every care on thee they may know the consolation of thy love; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.10

All sit as the choir sings

THE ANTHEM

GIVE rest, O Christ, to thy servant with thy Saints:

where sorrow and pain are no more;

neither sighing, but life everlasting.

Thou only art immortal, the Creator and Maker of man:

And we are mortal, formed of the earth, and unto earth shall we return.

For so thou didst ordain, when thou createdest me, saying,

Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.

All we go down to the dust; and, weeping, o’er the grave,

we make our song: Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia.

Russian Kontakion of the Departed

Translated William John Birkbeck (1859-1916)

Kiev Melody, arranged by Sir Walter Parratt, KCVO (1841-1924)

All stand.

As the Coffin is lowered into the Royal Vault, the Dean of Windsor shall say

THE COMMENDATION

GO forth upon thy journey from this world, O Christian soul,

In the name of God the Father Almighty who created thee;

In the name of Jesus Christ who suffered for thee;

In the name of the Holy Spirit who strengtheneth thee;

May thy portion this day be in peace,

and thy dwelling in the heavenly Jerusalem. Amen.

All remain standing. Garter Principal King of Arms proclaims

THE STYLES AND TITLES OF HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS THE PRINCE PHILIP DUKE OF EDINBURGH

THUS it hath pleased Almighty God to take out of this transitory life unto his divine mercy the late most Illustrious and most Exalted Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, Earl of Merioneth and Baron Greenwich, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Garter, Knight of the Most Ancient and Most Noble Order of the Thistle, Member of the Order of Merit, Knight Grand Cross of the Royal Victorian Order upon whom had been conferred the Royal Victorian Chain, Grand Master and Knight Grand Cross of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire, Lord

High Admiral of the United Kingdom, One of Her Majesty’s Most Honourable Privy Council, Admiral of the Fleet, Field Marshal in the Army and Marshal of the Royal Air Force, Husband of Her Most Excellent Majesty Elizabeth the Second by the Grace of God of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and of Her other Realms and Territories, Queen, Head of the Commonwealth, Defender of the Faith, Sovereign of the Most Noble Order of the Garter, whom may God preserve and bless with long life, health and honour and all worldly happiness.

Thereafter, the Pipe Major of The Royal Regiment of Scotland plays

A LAMENT

The Buglers of the Royal Marines sound

THE LAST POST

After a period of silence the State Trumpeters of the Household Cavalry sound

REVEILLE

The Buglers of the Royal Marines sound

ACTION STATIONS

Then the Archbishop of Canterbury pronounces

THE BLESSING

All remain standing as the choir sings

THE NATIONAL ANTHEM

GOD save our gracious Queen,

Long live our noble Queen,

God save The Queen!

Send her victorious,

Happy and glorious,

Long to reign over us,

God save The Queen!

All remain standing in their places as Her Majesty The Queen, Members of the Royal Family and Members of The Duke of Edinburgh’s Family leave the Chapel via the Galilee Porch escorted by the Dean of Windsor and the Archbishop of Canterbury.

Music after the service

Luke Bond, Assistant Director of Music, St George’s Chapel, will play

Prelude and Fugue in C minor BWV 546 Johann Sebastian Bach

END

[religioused]

God is Thankful for You

Scripture Readings

Job 23:1-9, 16-17

Then Job answered: "Today also my complaint is bitter; his hand is heavy despite my groaning. Oh, that I knew where I might find him, that I might come even to his dwelling! I would lay my case before him, and fill my mouth with arguments. I would learn what he would answer me, and understand what he would say to me.

6 Would he contend with me in the greatness of his power? No; but he would give heed to me. 

7 There an upright person could reason with him, and I should be acquitted forever by my judge. "If I go forward, he is not there; or backward, I cannot perceive him; on the left he hides, and I cannot behold him; I turn to the right, but I cannot see him. God has made my heart faint; the Almighty has terrified me; If only I could vanish in darkness, and thick darkness would cover my face!

Psalm 22:1-15

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning? O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer; and by night, but find no rest.

3 Yet you are holy, enthroned on the praises of Israel.

4 In you our ancestors trusted; they trusted, and you delivered them. To you they cried, and were saved; in you they trusted, and were not put to shame.

6 But I am a worm, and not human; scorned by others, and despised by the people. All who see me mock at me; they make mouths at me, they shake their heads; "Commit your cause to the LORD; let him deliver-- let him rescue the one in whom he delights!"

9 Yet it was you who took me from the womb; you kept me safe on my mother's breast. On you I was cast from my birth, and since my mother bore me you have been my God.

11 Do not be far from me, for trouble is near and there is no one to help. Many bulls encircle me, strong bulls of Bashan surround me; they open wide their mouths at me, like a ravening and roaring lion. I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint; my heart is like wax; it is melted within my breast; my mouth is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue sticks to my jaws; you lay me in the dust of death.

Psalm 23

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.

2 He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters; he restores my soul. He leads me in right paths for his name’s sake.

4 Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff—they comfort me.

5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.

6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long.

Hebrews 4:12-16

Indeed, the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing until it divides soul from spirit, joints from marrow; it is able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart. And before him no creature is hidden, but all are naked and laid bare to the eyes of the one to whom we must render an account.

14 Since, then, we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast to our confession. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who in every respect has been tested as we are, yet without sin.

16 Let us therefore approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.

Reflection

God is Grateful for You

by Gary Simpson

This is the first face-to-face sermon that I have given in over a year and a half. I have only been in a face-to-face church service a handful of times in the last year and a half. Being in church again feels good. I cannot think of a better place to be back in church than your church. Your congregation has a lot going for it. You can take pride in being part of a church that has such a rich history.

I generally try to speak using the Revised Common Lectionary readings. I notice the readings for today are not quite the same as they are for Canadian Thanksgiving. For some reason, the readings today seemed to fit more.

One of the readings comes from Job. One of my Bible commentaries refers to Job as being “widely recognized, even in secular circles, as one of the world’s most magnificent dramatic poems.”(1) The drama of the book of Job seems appropriate as we experience the drama-filled pandemic.

In the book of Job, we see two very distinct Job characters.  There is a patient Job and an inpatient Job.  Job goes through all of the life disasters patiently.  And we also have an impatient Job.(2) I think the impatient Job appears when Job is looking for answers. He proclaims his innocence from mistakes that could have caused the calamities in his life, curses the day he was born, and becomes frustrated with life. We see both the patient and the impatient in our COVID response. In the early stages of the pandemic, we were pretty patient.  In some cities, people applauded physicians and nurses when they got off work.  Then we morphed into impatient people - challenging the expertise of physicians, not wanting to wear masks, protesting against wearing masks and vaccinations, and demanding our rights.

One of the books in my library is the Global Bible Commentary. I like the book because it gives insights from Christian scholars living outside of Europe, North America, and Australia. The commentary for Job indicates that Job’s friends lacked information about Job’s suffering. Benjamin Ntreh, who wrote the Job commentary, indicates that the book of Job “can address the issues of lack of knowledge regarding poverty and the spread of HIV/AIDS in the sub region of Africa.”(3) He explains how changes in west African tradition that resulted from colonization lead to a reduction in traditional life and values, contributing to the spread of HIV/AIDS in West African cities. As Africans were dispossessed from their lands by large commercial interests, they became “underpaid” employees of companies.(4) With increasing urbanization in Africa, traditional “sexual norms” declined. The decline in traditional values and more rural lifestyles helped contribute to the spread of HIV/AIDS.(5)

As I think about this one factor in African suffering, my mind turns to the pandemic. We traditionally accepted the word of experts. Somehow, through the pandemic, the authority of medical science declined. The spread of COVID might have been contributed to by competing views of how COVID is transmitted, the impact of COVID on people’s long-term health, and how to protect economic interests during a pandemic. Perhaps, in some way, thinking about Job can help us as we celebrate Thanksgiving.

For several years, I had the privilege of giving a Christmas Day service. The people who came to the service were often people who were visiting family in the region or people who had no family. Some of the people probably came to church so they would not feel alone all day. I believed that it was important to briefly acknowledge the challenges of the season before we talked about Christmas.

I do not think the world has seen a period as rough as the last year and a half in 70 to 100 years. To appreciate Thanksgiving, we need to reflect on the calamities of the last year and a half.

I think we first started seeing COVID cases in January of 2020. At my church, we missed the following face-to-face celebrations:

• One Christmas.

• Two Easters.

• Two Pride Church Services.

• Numerous birthdays.

• A few memorial services.

• Two Thanksgivings, because we have not returned to face-to-face services.

• Some of the problems we faced during the time many churches were closed include:

• Bush fires in Australia, and forest fires in California and British Columbia.

• Polarizing elections in both the United States and Canada.

We discovered hundreds of unmarked graves on the school grounds of former residential schools for Indigenous children. The discovery shocked many non-Indigenous people and triggered and traumatized many Indigenous people.

We joined the world, watching in horror, as George Floyd was killed when in police custody. And we watched with concern the protests that broke out across the United States. I watch with a lot of emotion the Portland Moms standing between the police and protestors to help protect the protestors. I was moved when Portland Dads showed their support for racial equity by bringing out leaf blowers and blowing tear gas back at the police.

We observed anger and hate against Asian people rise. Hate crimes targeting Vancouver, British Columbia Asians increased by 717% in 2020.(6)

Collectively, this is a challenging Thanksgiving. We are celebrating Thanksgiving in the presence of profound loss. In Canada, we lost 27,819 people to the pandemic.(7) The picture for our American friends is more serious. The September 29 statistics indicate 694,701 people died from COVID-19 in the United States.(8)

At times, we may have felt overwhelmed by threatening things, things that we might even have viewed as enemies. What things felt like they were our enemies in the last year?

• COVID.

• Isolation and loneliness.

• Loss.

• Grief.

• Fear - of disease, of loss of freedom, of so much more.

• Elections.

• Other political views.

• Health concerns and troubling medical diagnoses.

The book of Esther does not mention God or prayer.(9) The story of Esther takes place after a disaster. I am not sure if that is the reason why the word God and prayer are not mentioned. Because they were displaced and enslaved by war, there were children of Israel living in Persia. We are in the disaster known as the COVID pandemic. During times of personal pain that may blot out the word God and prayer in the narratives of our hearts and lives, the story of Queen Esther, the story of Purim speaks to us.

Rabbi Manis Friedman, as he reflects on the meaning of the story of Queen Esther, the story of Purim, notes, “God became real enough that we don’t have to refer to Him to know that He is there . . . That is a real achievement. God has become real to us. Our relationship has gotten stronger after the destruction, not weaker.”(10)

We can be thankful not just for the things God gives us, the provisions that God gives us. We can be thankful for the presence of God.(11) The sense that God is with us during challenging and frightening times is in the 23rd Psalm. Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me. The Psalmist gives us the feeling that God is very present even when our enemies are very close, so close that they can see us eating. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. Those enemies can include illnesses and pandemics.

Steven Furtick is a best-selling author,(12) an award-winning musician, and a minister.(13) He is the senior pastor of Elevation Church.(14) Steven Furtick makes the point that we can, “Learn to read our enemies as a sign that it is time to eat.”(15) I am going to add that the sight of enemies can be a sign that it is supper time, time to eat the meal that God prepared for us. And a meal of gratitude is part of what God serves us.

You might be thinking, “But I feel no gratitude.” That is okay. God brings gratitude. You do not have to bring gratitude. God is grateful for you, and God is grateful to be in a relationship with you. Perhaps, that is what Thanksgiving has always been, a celebration of God’s gratitude for us more than a celebration of our gratitude for the circumstances that have shaped our lives.

Notes

(1) Merrill F. Unger. Unger’s Bible Handbook: An Essential Guide to Understanding the Bible. (Chicago: Moody Press, 1967), 267.

(2) Moshe Greenberg.  “Job.”  The Literary Guide to the Bible.  (Cambridge, Massachusetts:  Cambridge University Press, 1987), 283.

(3) Benjamin Ntreh. “Job.” Global Bible Commentary. (Nashville, Tennessee: Abingdon Press, 2004), 141.

(4) Ntreh (2004), 142.

(5) Ntreh (2004) 143.

(6) Richard Zussman. “Horgan ‘Deeply’ Troubled by 717% Increase in anti-Asian Hate Crimes in Vancouver.” Global News. 18 February 2021, 01 October 2021. <https://www.google.ca/amp/s/globalnews.ca/news/7647135/horgan-bc-presser-feb-18/amp/>.

(7) “COVID-19 Daily Epidemiology Update.” Health Canada. 29 September 2021, 01 October 2121.

<https://health-infobase.canada.ca/covid-19/epidemiological-summary-covid-19-cases.html?stat=num&measure=deaths>.

(8) “Weekly Review Interpretive Summary for October 1, 2021.” Center for Disease Control. 01 October 2021, 01 October 2021.

< https://www.cdc.gov/coronavirus/2019-ncov/covid-data/covidview/index.html>.

(9) Wong Wai Ching Angela. “Esther.” Global Bible Commentary. (Nashville, Tennessee: Abingdon Press, 2004), 139.

(10) Manis Friedman. “The Meaning of Purim in 2 Minutes.” Rabbi Manis Friedman: YouTube. 08 March 2020, 25 September 2021. <https://youtu.be/kiMCYYEznfE>.

(11) Steven Furtick. “How to Thank God ‘Even Though.’” Official Steven Furtick: YouTube. 26 November 2020, 30 September 2021.

<https://youtu.be/5GsINTk6tdo>.

(12) “About.” Steven Furtick. n.d., 30 September 2021. <https://stevenfurtick.com/about>.

(13) “Steven Furtick.” Wikipedia. n.d., 30 October 2021. <https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Steven_Furtick>.

(14) “About.” Steven Furtick. n.d., 30 September 2021. <https://stevenfurtick.com/about>.

(15) Steven Furtick. “How to Thank God ‘Even Though.’” Official Steven Furtick: YouTube. 26 November 2020, 30 September 2021.

<https://youtu.be/5GsINTk6tdo>.

[frogsandcookies]

Hellfire

Who ordered a Hunchback of Notre Dame au for Sanders Sides? 

Anyways, this is a song fic Hellfire from the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Logan is Frollo in this, Patton is Esmeralda, Virgil is Quasimodo, and Roman is Phoebus (the latter two are barely mentioned)

Warning: Minor NSFW themes(nothing explicit so don’t worry but Logan does talk about lust), Violence, Mention of death, A lot of religious stuff (Talking about hell and such)

***Edited on 3-28-21 to remove a offensive word from the writing, I apologize for using it in the original, I wasn’t aware that it was a slur. 

___

Confiteor Deo Omnipotenti Beatae Mariae semper Virgini Beato Michaeli archangelo Sanctis apostolis omnibus sanctis

The sound of the congregation’s singing bounced off of the towering stone halls, echoing throughout the magnificent cathedral and the surrounding city area. It was haunting, both beautiful and terrifying though the townsfolk paid no attention to it, used to the sound by now. The usually bustling city was quiet and dark, except for one house. Logan Frollo’s manor.

The stone faced man was standing on his balcony that looked over the whole city, his hands clamped tightly on the marble railing. His knuckles were a ghostly white and his teeth clenched together tightly. The deafening cathedral bells began to ring and his eyes snapped to the Notre Dame.

“Damned bells.” He muttered before releasing the thoroughly strangled railing and turning quickly on his heel. His robe swept elegantly behind him following his spin, the wind blowing it back as he strided into his home. Just as the bells ceased their ringing, Logan slammed the mahogany doors to his balcony, his face bearing an wrathful expression.

He was restless, clenching and unclenching his hands as he thought about the events that had occurred the past couple of days.

Logan suddenly stopped and his eyes flicked up to the tall portrait of the Virgin Mary which hung above the grand stone fireplace where a crackling fire was lit. Its eyes seemed to watch his every movement and looked into his soul, reading what he was thinking.

Beata Maria

You know I am a righteous man

Of my virtue I am justly proud

“Beata Maria, Saint Mary, why must you look at me so? You have seen from my actions that I am indeed a righteous man who strives for perfection in the citizens of Paris.” Logan said, looking up to the painting who’s leering seemed to increase as he continued to speak.

“Although my arrogance may seem unjust, I think that all of the contributions I have made to this growing city speak for themselves; of which my virtue I am justly proud. Not many can say they helped exterminate the infestation of travelers that roam about our glorious city, corrupting the weak willed citizens.” Logan added, his tone sounding a bit desperate as he pleaded to the painting.

Beata Maria

You know I'm so much purer than

The common, vulgar, weak, licentious crowd

“The citizens who make up our City of Light are vulgar and common yet I strive to help them reach salvation. Those fools in the Notre Dame do the devil’s work, protecting those wanderers and that freak of a child who I graciously raised.” Logan spat, his anger flaring.

“When I reach Heaven’s pearly gates those weak fools will claw at my feet.” He murmured.

Then tell me, Maria

Why I see him dancing there

Why his smoldering eyes still scorch my soul

There was a jingle of bells and Logan spun around, his glasses nearly falling off of his face as he looked for the source of the all too familiar sound.

“Who’s there?” He called, his hand flitting to his pocket where a silken blue scarf was housed. No one answered his call and Logan yelled once again,”Come out you vile boy!”

Only the crackling of the fire answered him  and Logan turned back around. He ignored the painting’s judging stare as he pulled out the delicate scarf, his hands shaking slightly as he caressed it.

“Why can’t I stop thinking about that witch?!” He muttered angrily. The fire crepitated in response and Logan looked into the red orange flames.

I feel him, I see him

The sun caught in his glowing hair

Is blazing in me out of all control

The dancing of the flames brought his thoughts back to the festival. Where he had met him. The man who had somehow wormed his way into Logan’s cold heart.

The boy had shoulder length caramel locks that seemed to float while he danced on the stage, a tambourine in one hand and a scarf in another. The image of him dancing and wrapping the scarf around Logan’s neck had forever been burned into his mind, no matter how hard he attempted to rid it from his brain.

He still felt disgust towards the younger male but accompanying it was a new feeling as well.

Like fire

Hellfire

This fire in my skin

This burning

Desire

Is turning me to sin

It was lust. One of the seven deadly sins that the Lord had preached not to commit unless he wanted to be damned to the fiery pits of hell.

And yet, there it was. His skin burned and a pit of fire replaced his soul. This feeling was new. Logan had dedicated himself to the church, working to eliminate the sin and the sinners accompanying it from the world. While his methods were questionable to most, he saw them as the best course of action and so he went forward, destroying homes and imprisoning countless travelers to the city.

Destroying the nomads had always been his mission; it was as though he had been birthed to do it. He never had time to take his turn with romance, always caught up in his work and never meeting anyone who caught his eye.

Until the festival. The event that had spurred an emotion in him that he had never felt before.

It's not my fault

I'm not to blame

It is the g**** boy

The witch who sent this flame

Logan snapped out of his thoughts and looked back up to the painting who’s stare was cold, much like his own.

“It’s not my fault!” He snapped before saying,”It’s that beastly dancing boy’s fault! He cursed me, got me trapped in his ungodly spell! He was the one to light this fire inside me, I am innocent!”

The fire seemed to roar at this and Logan stopped back, still gripping the scarf tightly in his hands.

It's not my fault

If in God's plan

He made the devil so much

Stronger than a man

“Maria why must I be at fault?! God created me with the intention of tempting me with this sin! But also made the devil to overpower me and damn me to hell!” Logan yelled.

“I am not to blame for this sin, the devil has come and planted this seed in my soul, one that I cannot begin to understand nor control! I am a man of God and yet he still tries to damn me! If in his plan to make the Devil stronger, why must I be included! Oh mother Maria!” Logan shrieked, hitting his fist against the cold stone wall as an emphasis for his words.

Protect me, Maria

“Mary, queen of Heaven, protect me from this sin and allow me to continue following the path to salvation!” Logan said, breathing heavily.

Don't let this siren cast his spell

Don't let his fire sear my flesh and bone

The flames continued to dance, showing him more images of the curly haired youth and Logan screamed in rage.

“Don’t let this witch, this siren continue to tempt me! Wipe him from this Earthly plain and let him dance in hell with the devil! His fire, this fire, burns; it scorches my soul and this temptation is ungodly!” He shrieked.

Destroy Patton Fairhope

And let him taste the fires of hell

Or else let him be mine and mine alone

Logan knew that while this might be a sin, he could try and reform the young male, try and redeem his soul. Without his guidance though, there was no hope and the fire within him would not be quenched until the male--Patton-- had met his own kind of fire. The ever burning fires of the underworld.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Logan spun around, shoving the sky blue scarf back into his robe pocket as the door swung open. In the doorway stood an armor clad soldier, his face cast in shadow due to the light being emitted from behind him.

“Minister Frollo. The g**** has escaped.” The soldier said.

Logan froze, rage bubbling up inside of his as he said,”What?”

“He’s nowhere in the cathedral. He’s gone.” The soldier elaborated.

Logan ran a hand through his thinning hair as a wrathful expression wormed its way onto his face and the soldier stepped back nervously.

“But how did…” He paused, collecting himself and dawning a neutral expression which was just as unnerving at the angry one. “Nevermind. Get out you idiot.” He snarled, waving the soldier back as he turned back to the fireplace, the flames reflecting his swirling emotions.

As the guard closed the door, he faced the fire, adding,”I’ll find him if I have to burn down all of Paris.”

Hellfire

Dark fire

“Hellfire. Darkfire. That idiot can run but nothing can match the troops of Paris. If he wants hell, then I shall bring it to him.” Logan snarled, wringing the scarf as he continued to talk.

Now g****, it's your turn

Choose me or

Your pyre

Be mine or you will burn

“If that witch wants to live then he will wisely choose to accept my offer of forgiveness. If he refuses then may he be burned at the stake like all of those other sinners.” Logan said, smirking as he remembered the many others who he had damned to the stake.

“Not everyone is as fortunate to have won my favor. Choose wisely.” He murmured to the scarf before casting it into the flames. The delicate fabric immediately caught flame and the garment was ash within a span of several seconds. Logan looked up the Virgin Mary painting once more, looking smug before turning away.

God have mercy on him

God have mercy on me

“May God be with him as he decides on his fate. And may God be with me and let this boy join me so we can walk the path of salvation together.” Logan said.

But he will be mine

Or he will burn!

“But let there be no doubt. He will be mine or he will burn. And may that foolish captain and that freak burn with him should he choose this path.” Logan said, staring at the Notre Dame through the stained glass windows where the monster he had raised resided.

[imaginethebeautifulworld]

since you've been writing a lot of spn stuff- can i request something with hands, autumn, & raphael. if not its ok!!!

My lovely, it is more than okay, and it is my pleasure. I hope you enjoy!

Patient eyes regarded darkening skies, glancing surreptitiously for the first flickers of lightning, counting each second between one breath of thunder and the next. The heavens were dancing in the fading violets of the setting sun, twinkling with their robust bedazzlement of stars. But the creeping greys and navies drew ever nearer, an ominous formation promising devastation should its warnings not be heeded. You took another sip of your drink, eyes slipping shut against the threat drawing nearer and nearer. Goose flesh rose on your arms as the barometric pressure continued to drop, electricity a near tangibility in the air. Still, you paid no mind, rather distracted by the delightful mixture of warmed spices harmonizing on your tongue before steadily making their way to settle within the cockles of your heart. The first hissing droplets of rain against the concrete made you pause, lowering your cup. Your eyes remained shut however, keenly listening to each huff of the wind, each furious growl of thunder. There was a righteous fury to this storm, rapidly centering itself around the small pavilion in which you had claimed temporary sanctuary. A small irritation of your own began to swell, enough to remove the contentment from your lips, eyes opening to narrow slits as you beheld the chaos beyond the wooden structure. Leaves formerly splattered in scarlets and golds and blazing siennas had been cast into murky waters, all vibrancy overwhelmed by the melancholic ferocity tossing them about in a whirlwind. Soft illumination from antiquated lanterns was subdued to dimmed pallor, spectral shifts shimmering against near impenetrable shadow. Somewhere nearby, but beyond line of sight, a tree creaked as it succumbed to the wind, the echo lost to the relentless chaos of the storm. Mild irritation grew into surging irascibility, cup set onto the wooden planks of the tabletop beneath you as you stood on the bench, devoid of any of the carefree optimism that had been so abundant earlier in the evening. "You can cut the theatrics; I'm not going anywhere!" Your words could have been nothing more than a bee's wing brushing against a flower petal, the shift of a spider's leg as it perfected another layer of its web; your proclamation was near unintelligible when faced with the terrible volume from the storm. But between the small shift in the direction of the wind and the answering roar of thunder- loudest of all- your confidence grew. Resolute, you leapt from your post, striding to the edge of your shelter, a feral smile crossing your lips with bitter abandon, doing well to hide the first twists of anxiety deep within your gut. You had worked so hard to create this confrontation, and now when presented with the grim reality of your circumstances, fear was worming its way through you, whispers from Panic tracing against your neck, her loathsome ally Doubt curling her fingers against your spine. Determined, you ignored those annoying agents of Chaos, stepping forward into the deluge. The first strike of lightning hit scarcely meters away, flash temporarily blinding you, crack deafening and shaking the ground beneath you. Reflexive instinct had you stumbling away, trying to shield yourself against the effects far too late. When your vision faded from jaded blue and thistle-tinted spots, phantasmal remnants of staring down the fulmination, you were at last able to truly cast your gaze upon your companion. Seething fury pooled around her, rage reflecting in the spark of her eyes. The shadow of a dozen wings played on the ground and in the canopy above you, shifting with each twist of the wind. Revulsion marred her features, the detestation eliciting a trace of contriteness deep within your chest. “Tell me why I shouldn’t smite you here and now.” The command was issued with all the potent magnificence of any Celestial, sparking trepidation deep within your soul. She towered over you, looming magnificence and vengeance mere moments from annihilation. Familiar blue danced in her eyes, a visceral reminder of how furious she truly was. But you had picked up on the plea within her decree. Shrouded beneath epochs of steadfast detachment was someone who felt so deeply, so thoroughly, that they had concealed themselves eons ago beneath a stern exterior, beneath a visage of a calculating strategist and general. The image was so strong, so consuming, she scarcely seemed aware of it herself sometimes. It was in those more intimate moments however when you began to read her, peering into the complexities of each mask she adorned. And in this moment, it was clear to see that beneath her fury, beneath her scorn, there was a searing pain in every movement she was making; more than all else, Raphael felt you had betrayed her, and that single sting of knowledge was more than sufficient for your gesture of surrender. "I'm sorry." Your placating tone did nothing to calm her, pulchritude somehow magnified through her scathing gaze. Encouraged by her lack of reply however, you took a cautious step forward, continuing your explanation. "I knew going to him would hurt you, and I still did it. You have every right to be pissed at me." "There are no words known to man in this world or the next to express-" There was a pause, a flicker of a scowl as she turned away from you, blue fading from her eyes as she surveyed the nearby trees. "You cut me deeply." Perhaps it was some remnant of stubborn indignation, or perhaps it was the inability to keep the passing thought contained, but Amara-help-you, the bite passed through your lips before you could restrain yourself. "At least the feeling's mutual." It was barely a breath, scarcely a coherent thought. Yet still she heard it, the words rippling through her wings as if she had been physically struck by them. Affronted gaze once more pinned you in place, the hairs along your nape rising in the face of thrumming electricity. "How dare you." She may have shouted or perhaps she had whispered; the hubris coating each syllable ate away at you, gnawing you in the ceaseless reminder that you were nothing compared to her. It was a logic that for years you had abided by, treading carefully alongside the ragtag collection of Hunters and Hosts, guarding your words and thoughts from Monsters and Malevolents alike. But much like the gods and goddesses of old, you had come to discover the immortals who walked the Earth were just as flawed as Humanity; you refused to display even a fraction of your fear in the face of her fury. "How dare I?" Memories assaulted you, vivid recollections of the hours spent raiding any literature you could find, the desperate summons to lesser Celestials, to Demons, to Pagans, to Fey, those excruciating evenings spent yearning for her presence, praying and cursing and crying into the darkest hours of the night. "How dare you!" Fervent prayers had proved useless, anxieties tying into fears and a dark web of self-doubt, eating away at your spirit. Desperation had left you precariously balanced on a precipice that surely would have damned you, had not one of the Archangels- the most unexpected- come to guide you back home. She had broken the oaths she made to you, disappearing from your side with no warning, no indications that she planned on returning. Having offered her your very soul, your every heartbeat, every inch of devotion- You had expected more care than what had been provided. Her touch had been so alien, her sweetest nothings oft hovering on the cusp of disturbing. But her love had been clear, her adoration shining as she watched you create, fondness blinding whenever you were lost in debate. She gave no indication of discontent, the warmongering visage that she brazenly wore crumbling to that of the Healer- curious, warm, and so full of life and light and hope and love that you could scarcely breathe around her. You had had no doubts of her affections, but her abandonment- Moisture stung your eyes, the yearning for those halcyon days depleting whatever pride you had been trying to maintain. Ferocity in your gaze, yet once more you turned to face her. "You abandoned me, Raphael." Your words sparked no form of reaction within her, nothing beyond the roiling rage radiating within her burnished orifices. "And still, you dared t-" "I did what I had to!" You spared her no mercy, once again stepping nearer, interrupting her condemnation before it could be truly vocalized. "We- I needed you." There was a flash of realization, so brief and sudden that had you not known her so well- not known by your own heartbeat the rhythm of her Grace, not known by memory the very slope of her eyes, not known by your very spirit the sensibilities within her- you surely would have missed the remorse reflecting in her eyes. "I needed you, Ra'phael. And you weren’t there.” The storm continued to rage all around you, fierce gale tossing loose twigs and leaves and rubbish from the nearest bins into a wall of relentless fury. Another flash of lightning electrified the air, the shadow of her wings nearly intimidating with their breadth. But you were long past the point of fear, beyond coercion. The very starlight that shimmered through her veins was as intimately familiar to you as the callouses on your own hands, and despite the severity of the storm around you- Not a drop of water had reached you, and only a few stray whispers of wind teased your eyelashes. For how angry you were, a sliver of hope embedded itself into your heart, a yearning to move past your own damnable pride now that you finally had her attention again. Her next words however, a low undercurrent of tension that echoed deep in your bones, forcefully smothered the flicker before it could fully begin to burn. “You forget your place, Oracle. I am not some pet,” she spat out, hauteur coating each syllable, grinding against your resolve. Raphael’s scowl, bitter expression coated in disdain, ate at your confidence, making you feel all that more insignificant in her presence. “I am the Wind and Skies. I am Majesty and Divinity; you are nothing more than an exiguous assemblage of quintessence.” The intensity of her proclamation- searing lightning, sharp tempest- wedged itself into your chest, corporeal reaction just as palpable as it would have been had she chosen instead to drive her halberd directly into your heart. This was not the being who had whispered stories of Creation into the pale hours of the morning, not the begrudging ally you had welcomed with equal wariness, the entity who you had come to see as so much more than a Primordial Agent of God. She used to smile for you, laughed with you. Aggrieved and enduring what felt a betrayal, your arms folded together in an attempt to shield yourself from further agony. Turning away from her, you nearly missed the transition in her expression, almost missed the pain in her own eyes. It was scarcely a flicker, but it was enough to give you pause, eyes narrowing in accusatory suspicion as she once more began to speak. “I have one final question for you, Oracle.” You had barely acknowledged her approach until she was standing right in front of you, wings folding away into their own stratum, features vulnerable in a way you had never seen before. She was fully unguarded, all traces of anger fallen from her frame, the crisp autumn air teasing loose strands of her hair. But it was her eyes- Timeless, boundless, beguiling in ways you could never even hope to describe- Her eyes drew you in, weaving into your curiousity, tugging so slightly at the tiniest shred of faith you had stubbornly clung to, hope having refused to retreat entirely. “How is it that someone so infinitesimal has so thoroughly ripped my plenary existence asunder?” Many of her English expressions were significantly outdated, but it was a rarity these days for her words to leave you completely befuddled. “What?” Her lips curled, a soft, achingly familiar smile creasing her features. There was a slight trace of mirth sparkling in her eyes, as well as some other unnamed emotion you didn’t dare wish for. You couldn’t look away even if you had longed to; the simple truth was that you were still spellbound by her presence, captivated by every motion. And that soft, gentle, affectionate smile- You hung your head in shame, desperately wishing you could cling to your anger, could somehow rid yourself of this depthless yearning. Her hand rose slowly, as if she were approaching a startled animal. The movement in your peripheral had you instinctively take a step back, once more studying the Archangel, now with far more confusion. “What it means, mi praevideat, is that I forgive you, and I apologise for departing without proper explanation.” Her words had only just reached you, spoken so softly that they nearly were lost to what remained of the breeze. You stared dumbly at her, doubting your own senses. It was inconceivable; Raphael was just as proud as her siblings, in many ways even more so. For her to be expressing any form of remorse- The light from one of the lanterns reflected in her eyes, the shifting shadows tugging you away from your suspicious rumination. You allowed yourself the diversion, taking a moment to study the eyes you had drowned in countless times before. Shifting axinite and bronze, and always that faint flicker of beryl- They were a cacophony of colour, ringing with a whole symphony of emotion. Doubt clung to you, your eyes narrowed as you tried to detect any insincerity from the Archangel. But her posture was tranquil, hands extended slightly from her sides in mimicry of a gesture you yourself had made thousands of times before. She was truly offering her atonement, truly regretted ever harming you. That simple asseveration was sufficient enough to pacify what had remained of your insecurities. Raphael sensed your crumbling barricades before you yourself could even begin to acknowledge them, meeting you directly, steering you safely into the harbour of her embrace. "I'm sorry," breathed tenderly against your temple, cautious fingers tracing new paths through your hair. You sighed, trying to continue grasping the threads of your anger, the fading traces of former anguish. But the memories were hazing away, all aching and suffering retreating under the Healer's tender supervision, adrenaline ebbing away with each breath. There was a moment when the atmosphere around you shifted, the cooled night air replaced with the glowing warmth of a candlelit room, torrential downpour replaced by the gentle medley of droplets against ancient windowpanes. Sometime in the hazy, blissful moments that followed, you had found yourself lying on a bed, the familiar hints of somnolence creeping ever closer. You had never dared to hope for anything beyond a few moments, had not dared to dream of the possibility you could weather the storm together. Your fingers drifted languidly across her back, pausing over each scar, every rise and fall of bone beneath her skin. You brushed aside stray feathers as you explored, giving into the inescapable smile at being bequeathed this vulnerability. An austere prayer of gratitude slipped past your subconscious, the smallest hint of praise to the most rebellious of Angels. You had to give the Devil his due; Lucifer still knew the exact words to prompt his kin into action. "It's highly impolite-" A drowsy voice interrupted your chain of thoughts, drawing your focus back to Raphael’s visage. Satisfied she had your attention, her eye closed once more, a small hint of bemusement coating her words. "-that you're thinking of my brother right now." Guilt summoned a wince from you, one you quickly shoved aside, favoring instead to fall once more to the empty space beside her, patient eyes taking in every crease, every pore, every millimetre of perfection to your beloved's physique. Surrender was a word neither of you would ever dare speak, but as you allowed yourself to relax in Raphael's embrace, your heavy eyes drifting gently over umber wings still sparkling with residual energy, you accepted the irrefutable truth of your circumstances. You had fallen irrevocably for an Archangel. And somewhere, only just piercing the cusps of whim and fancy, as you succumbed to the steady crescendo of slumber's sirenous strains, the lingering scents of cinnamon and petrichor drizzled softly on a breeze sighing: I love you, too. 

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

10th December >> Mass Readings (USA)

Thursday, Second Week of Advent 

    or 

Our Lady of Loreto.

Thursday, Second Week of Advent

(Liturgical Colour: Violet)

First Reading

Isaiah 41:13-20

I am your redeemer, the Holy One of Israel.

I am the LORD, your God,    who grasp your right hand; It is I who say to you, “Fear not,    I will help you.” Fear not, O worm Jacob,    O maggot Israel; I will help you, says the LORD;    your redeemer is the Holy One of Israel. I will make of you a threshing sledge,    sharp, new, and double-edged, To thresh the mountains and crush them,    to make the hills like chaff. When you winnow them, the wind shall carry them off    and the storm shall scatter them. But you shall rejoice in the LORD,    and glory in the Holy One of Israel.

The afflicted and the needy seek water in vain,    their tongues are parched with thirst. I, the LORD, will answer them;    I, the God of Israel, will not forsake them. I will open up rivers on the bare heights,    and fountains in the broad valleys; I will turn the desert into a marshland,    and the dry ground into springs of water. I will plant in the desert the cedar,    acacia, myrtle, and olive; I will set in the wasteland the cypress,    together with the plane tree and the pine, That all may see and know,    observe and understand, That the hand of the LORD has done this,    the Holy One of Israel has created it.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 145:1 and 9, 10-11, 12-13ab

R/ The Lord is gracious and merciful; slow to anger, and of great kindness.

I will extol you, O my God and King,    and I will bless your name forever and ever. The LORD is good to all    and compassionate toward all his works.

R/ The Lord is gracious and merciful; slow to anger, and of great kindness.

Let all your works give you thanks, O LORD,    and let your faithful ones bless you. Let them discourse of the glory of your Kingdom    and speak of your might.

R/ The Lord is gracious and merciful; slow to anger, and of great kindness.

Let them make known to men your might    and the glorious splendor of your Kingdom. Your Kingdom is a Kingdom for all ages,    and your dominion endures through all generations.

R/ The Lord is gracious and merciful; slow to anger, and of great kindness.

Gospel Acclamation

cf. Isaiah 45:8

Alleluia, alleluia. Let the clouds rain down the Just One, and the earth bring forth a Savior. Alleluia, alleluia.

Gospel

Matthew 11:11-15

None greater than John the Baptist has been born.

Jesus said to the crowds: “Amen, I say to you, among those born of women there has been none greater than John the Baptist; yet the least in the Kingdom of heaven is greater than he. From the days of John the Baptist until now, the Kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent are taking it by force. All the prophets and the law prophesied up to the time of John. And if you are willing to accept it, he is Elijah, the one who is to come. Whoever has ears ought to hear.”

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Our Lady of Loreto

(Liturgical Colour: White)

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Thursday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading

Isaiah 7:10–14; 8:10

Behold, the virgin shall conceive.

The LORD spoke to Ahaz, saying: Ask for a sign from the LORD, your God; let it be deep as the nether world, or high as the sky! But Ahaz answered, “I will not ask! I will not tempt the LORD!” Then Isaiah said: Listen, O house of David! Is it not enough for you to weary people, must you also weary my God? Therefore the Lord himself will give you this sign: the virgin shall be with child, and bear a son, and shall name him Emmanuel, which means “God is with us!”

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Luke 1:46-47, 48-49, 50-51, 52-53, 54-55

R/ The Almighty has done great things for me, and holy is his Name. or R/ O Blessed Virgin Mary, you carried the Son of the eternal Father.

“My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord,    my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.”

R/ The Almighty has done great things for me, and holy is his Name. or R/ O Blessed Virgin Mary, you carried the Son of the eternal Father.

“For he has looked upon his lowly servant. From this day all generations will call me blessed:    the Almighty has done great things for me,    and holy is his Name.”

R/ The Almighty has done great things for me, and holy is his Name. or R/ O Blessed Virgin Mary, you carried the Son of the eternal Father.

“He has mercy on those who fear him    in every generation. He has shown the strength of his arm,    he has scattered the proud in their conceit.”

R/ The Almighty has done great things for me, and holy is his Name. or R/ O Blessed Virgin Mary, you carried the Son of the eternal Father.

“He has cast down the mighty from their thrones,    and has lifted up the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things,    and the rich he has sent away empty.”

R/ The Almighty has done great things for me, and holy is his Name. or R/ O Blessed Virgin Mary, you carried the Son of the eternal Father.

“He has come to the help of his servant Israel    for he has remembered his promise of mercy,    the promise he made to our fathers,    to Abraham and his children forever.”

R/ The Almighty has done great things for me, and holy is his Name. or R/ O Blessed Virgin Mary, you carried the Son of the eternal Father.

Gospel Acclamation

cf. Luke 1:28

Alleluia, alleluia. Hail, Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you; blessed are you among women. Alleluia, alleluia.

Gospel

Luke 1:26-38

You will conceive in your womb and bear a son.

The angel Gabriel was sent from God to a town of Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the house of David, and the virgin’s name was Mary. And coming to her, he said, “Hail, full of grace! The Lord is with you.” But she was greatly troubled at what was said and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. Then the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give him the throne of David his father, and he will rule over the house of Jacob forever, and of his Kingdom there will be no end.” But Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I have no relations with a man?” And the angel said to her in reply, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. Therefore the child to be born will be called holy, the Son of God. And behold, Elizabeth, your relative, has also conceived a son in her old age, and this is the sixth month for her who was called barren; for nothing will be impossible for God.” Mary said, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.” Then the angel departed from her.

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

[theodinsonsonmidgard]

Hold me Tight 2 - part 2-

Perhaps, as Thor said, it was true that those transparent waters had the power to cleanse your soul and make you think more clearly. Perhaps this is the power the Gods have given to the salt waters of Midgard. Thor and I enjoyed ourselves as I never remembered before. Perhaps only in our earliest childhood days, I remember a joy so pure in being together.

I swam with him, competing in speed with the white-crusted waves: we are young, we are strong, Sons of Odin, and we looked like the creators of Midgard came down to enjoy the beauties of that paradise. Sometimes I watched him swim, while I stopped to wash out the water dripping on my face from my hair. Thor, my wonderful brother. Thor, whom I feared having lost forever. Thor, please don't leave me behind ...

I wonder if I'm still your brother, at your eyes. Somewhere, in our past, a crack has opened up and is chasing us to swallow both of us once and for all. Even now.

It was my fault, Thor, I opened that crack, ... and I'll close it for both, i promise you. But don't let me go this time.

Then I couldn't think more because a dripping blond giant swept me away with a bear hug, and dragged me off with him, with a laugh, over the waves.

Dinner was roast meat of which my brother was very proud. As the air turned purple and the sun went down, I had already made my decision. No regrets. I felt strong, strangely euphoric. I wanted to hug him but I restrained myself. There would be time, i was sure of it.

The fire crackled placidly. The night air, which became almost pungent, didn't disturb me, on the contrary, it cooled my skin a little, and caressed my thoughts. Even the wind had changed its voice, its smell, ...no longer the scent of freedom, but something deeper, earthy, almost visceral. Perhaps due to the volcanic rocks and ungainly bushes of the hills above us. And he was there, beyond that bonfire ... with flaming reflections to sculpt his face, blonder than ever, an open smile.

Thor Odinson. 

My brother. Who spoke loudly, who told me stories, who laughed, ...and I listened to him, teased him, laughed with him, while another part of me, secretly, was looking for the guts to put into effect what I had decided earlier.

It had been a wonderful day. The first since Thor brought me back. Perhaps one of the rarest of my whole life. And I didn't want to ruin it with what I was going to do, but I decided to be ready. Or anyway I could try. I wanted to start trusting.

Ours had been a wretched and unhappy family, yet, whether I wanted it or not, I loved Thor. Desperately.

I had given my life for him.

Twice. The word 'brother' in my mind has the bright face of Thor. And I had decided to let him enter in a part of my life so private and hurtful that I've been hiding since years. That I know only myself.

I wanted to start trusting him. Showing him that I had changed, that I could stop protecting myself and flee. Although it would have required a lot of courage, since I should have ...

Thor was laughing at me and the fact that I was staring at the fire dance like an idiot. I roused myself, smiling.

'C'mon, you bastard ...'

"Thor, listen ..." I bit my lip, he noticed it this time, and softened his voice.

"Loki, what is it? Do you have migraine? Do you want us to go home?"

I chuckled to hide the tension: would you face the most terrible of storms, knowing you were naked as a worm? Totally defenseless? Because this was what I was going to do from now on ...

"No, I'm great,... no, listen ..."

'Look at him, Loki ...'

"Do you remember when we fought each other, during all those painful and absurd years? You've always accused me of being too quiet. You told me to keeping you at a distance, to rejecting you. Of never making you enter my thoughts, explain my feels... that I was the worse brother, ... no, wait, please. "  I smiled  "Please wait ..."

A deep breath. Burning air, cold and salted, rising up the nose, until it invades my chest.

 "So I decided that I can do it, a step towards you, brother, and try to break down this wall that keeps us in our pride. And that Surtur may devour me if I'm not trembling to the bone, damn you!"

 Silence. Wind and the liquid chant of the sea, black into black.

"Do you remember when ...when I ...I let it go? When I fell down, long time ago, ... when everything was shattered, me for first but nobody cared. Remember when I came back and everything was different, everything changed. Your gang of new pompous friends, Midgard, ... all the rest. I have very confused memories of those days, but I remember well when we met again, between heaven and earth. And we talked, or rather we spit on each one our hatred. I could have told you then, but you had other things on your mind and no intention of listening. Or maybe not, I wouldn't have told you a shit either." I giggled nervously.

I was wearing an half-buttoned old shirt, worn and light, of which I didn't care at all,...dark blue, shiny fabric. I undid the third button.

"I fell into the void, then, ... into nothingness. I wanted... to die, to finally find peace, to appease my pain. Instead I found a worse hell. Perhaps the worstest of all. And I implored death as the sweetest of salvations."

Gods, it's terrible to remember aloud. I can't believe you're next to me, listening all of this. For real.

"He took me. I don't know how he did it, but I found myself crawling at his feet in an alien and terrible world. He was thirsty for power. He had a plan. He wanted everything. He wanted the Gems and crush down the Worlds, and I could be useful to him. But first he had to crush down me."

I undid another shirt's buttonhole.

"I know you never understood much of what's on my mind, Thor, ...but it wasn't your fault. Not always, at least. And this thing ... maybe it was beyond both of us."

I undid the penultimate button.

"There was no more day, no more night. There was only cold, pain and fear. There were many of them. They surrounded me. They laughed at me. Call me names. But his shadow on the moldy marbles was enough to make them disappear, leaving me at his mercy... Did you ever wonder why I hate sudden gestures, or why unexpected noises make me uncomfortable when they don't terrify me? "

Here, the shirt was open.

"Have you ever wondered why I stiffen every time you touch me? ... I was afraid of the whip, but the worst was the fire. The fire was the craziest pain, and ... I lost consciousness. Almost always. That maniac knew how to use the whip well. Where to hit. How to hit. He whispered in my mind, ... no one will ever care about you, little monster, ... nobody wants you, they despise you, spit on your shadow of demon, you're been a burden for everyone, you will always be, but I can give you the power that... if only you... "

I swallowed again. The air started to become cold, too much cold, ...carried with it a vague hint of resin ...

'NO!!'

It has always been like this. Frost magic woke up every time I was upset, or if something infuriated me, and blew ice on everything around me. But it couldn't happen there, ... there, in the sea waves glossy of moonlight, and the holey rocks of the volcanoes.

'Loki, dominate yourself!! Not now, Loki, not here!!'

The blue shirt slid over my shoulders, then I pulled my arms off from sleeves. Here, Thor, ... take a step into my world, ... look at my miserable pain.

"It was ... it was pure hell, Thor. A hell made of blood, pain and fear in which I crawled for I don't know how long. I saw my blood, I felt it on me, it made me sick. Did you ever notice how sickening it is the smell of blood? ... With fire I went crazy. With the blades I saw death in the eyes, and had the purple skin of my killer, that son of a bitch. He wanted me crushed, and he crushed me. He wanted me submitted and I bent. Because I healed. In a hurry. I am a God and he knew it. So the ... horror started again, always. The young Loki, the one who sought death to forget the pain, is gone. He was destroyed by that hell. I ... I don't know what he made me become but I survived by pure animal instinct, I survived the fire, the whip, the blades, the cold and beatings. But I healed more slowly, so he decided I was ready."

I didn't have the guts to look at Thor. I was there, bare-chested, arm in arm with him, and I felt his burning blue eyes on me. It burned like those blades.

Are you pale? Are you speechless? Furious? In tears? I don't want to know now, brother.

"I know what you are seeing. I know them one by one. They heal slowly. Some will never heal. Some intertwine on the shoulders, stretch to the chest. There is also a fire wound, next to it ... the blades instead were biting arms ...here, and here, ..." I barely touched my pale skin "The whip tore the skin from the back. The back is the worst. There are a couple that still hurt,...others no longer exist. Like here, on the eyebrow, or just above the ear..."

Scars. From the shoulders as far as a whip could reach. Or tongues of fire. Or those damn blades.

There was no better way to tell you. Nor a different way. Forgive me, brother...

He had to see them and I had to do it. I realized that if I wanted to recover from all my shit, I had to let go and expose myself.

Running away had only made things worse, it was festering everything.

I need my you to see, Thor. I need to hear your support. I wanted to know that you can be with me, so my recovery will be less painful and I could move on more easily. Will you stand by my side, brother?

So I looked up at him, and saw it.

The raging storm.

Flaming fury in Thor's dark eyes. Ready to lash out at me. I could feel them, those eyes, like a punch in the face. I knew I had hurt him and it devastating me. Now I realized I had broken him and I would have given everything to be able to go back and cancel that insane decision of mine. I wanted to die, and I probably would have died by his hand, because the one in front of me was no longer the chatty, smiling Thor who hugged me and called me "little brother".

He was the God of Thunder in his wildest and most primordial form. Rage and fury. It was pure berserk fury as I had never seen it before.

A terrifying roar shook the night sky and shook the earth beneath the volcanoes with a frightening groan. The air vibrated in my ears with such intensity that forced me to a stifled moan of pain. Then the air was shattered by the furious cry of the God of Thunder, which I had just completely broke with my senseless act. So I was ready to die.

[teamfortress2yaoi]

From Pet Sounds to SMiLE: The American 60s defined

Helloooooooo friends! Here’s the essay I wrote for one of my college classes this past semester that I’ve neglected to post on here. Our prompt was to analyze the 60s through looking at the work of some prominent artists, musicians, architects, writers, etc.,. of the time. We also had to examine a film from that era or about that era. I obviously chose The Beach Boys hehe

Apart from examining Pet Sounds and SMiLE (whose analyses in this essay are not as in-depth as I’d like, but I’d like to keep this unaltered version for my future reference), I also look at some of their earlier discography and provide a brief blurb about Bill Pohlad’s 2014 film, Love and Mercy. Amongst all of this Beach Boys nonsense, I insert some quips about historical events that occur within the 60s, however, it’s still not to the lengths I’d like to write about :(

Anyway, please enjoy and let me know your thoughts! The essay is under the read more :)

Highs and lows marcate great, enthralling dramas. Surrounding every great drama is reverence, nostalgia, and critical analysis. The 60s, in this regard, is a great drama, forever cemented in the American psyche as a dreamland of innovative music, free love, drugs and expansions; yet also a hellish landscape of violence, strife, and trepidation. Amongst this music sits The Beach Boys: the pioneers of popular surf rock, the American competition to The Beatles, the creators of the first concept album, and the chaotic family. The Beach Boys as “America’s band” is a title they fought for through Pet Sounds (1966) and SMiLE (unreleased, 1967), encapsulating what made the 60s into the beautifully volatile era that still reverberates within the America of today.

In the early 60s, The Beach Boys revered the sun and an almost utopian California in their music, reflecting the era’s need to escape from the uncertainty that sprawled before itself. Leisure culture was rapidly expanding-- cars were becoming more accessible, the West Coast found itself fiercely gripped by surf, the beach became a safe haven, and rock ‘n roll found a place in the hearts of many. It is here where The Beach Boys found their most commercial voice. In songs like “Fun, Fun, Fun,” The Beach Boys sing about a girl taking her car out to have some of that aforementioned fun, fun, fun. In “Little Deuce Coupe,” it’s all about talking about how cool cars are. And, in one of their most well-known songs (which is just Chuck Berry’s “Sweet Little Sixteen”), “Surfin’ USA,” they sing about the magical sport of surf and how it will bring together the entire United States, despite most of it having no access to a beach. These songs all reflect that same leisure culture and its greatness, yet, not all of their songs from that time just stagnate in some sort of happy, fun, and oblivious dream.

Brian Wilson, the founder, songwriter, and producer of The Beach Boys, had another message to put out into the world that echoed what he felt, and what the rest of America felt but wasn’t able to express entirely with words. Songs like “The Lonely Sea,” “In My Room,” and most remarkably, “The Warmth of the Sun,” echo a terrible loneliness and introversion that America found itself embroiled in. “The Lonely Sea” describes the sea as it constantly changes, never permanent or staying-- although it primarily focuses itself on the topic of an uncertain romance, it is the romantic narrative of America from the 50s that is changing. It reflects the rapidly changing landscape of civil rights, politics, and war that emerged in the early 60s. With “In My Room,” Brian retreats into his room, a place where he feels safe, secure, and set away from the world around him-- a topic previously unexplored in music of that time, accompanied with the lush harmonies that The Beach Boys are so fondly known by. He, and the rest of America’s teenagers retreat from the changing world around them, and in “The Warmth of the Sun,” these sentiments are turned into intense clinging to what good is left in the world-- most plainly, the warmth of the sun. The song was written in response to JFK’s assassination, and reflects the sheer panic that America was faced with-- only in clinging to the good could they prevail as conflict in Vietnam escalated into war. The Beach Boys, and the rest of America, continued to retreat further into themselves and sought respite through whatever means necessary.

As the Gulf of Tonkin resolution is passed, the 60s takes a sharp turn into the psychedelic as anxiety and fear wildly scatters itself about, reflected in The Beach Boys’s magnum opus, Pet Sounds (1966). Apart from the American invasion into Vietnam, The British Invasion has begun with the Beatles playing on the Ed Sullivan show and garnering a massive swarm of crazed fans. In 1965, they release Rubber Soul, pushing what pop music was, which Brian Wilson found himself challenged by. Following a panic attack on a plane from a live show, Brian promises to retire from touring entirely, and focuses his efforts on creating the best pop and rock album of all time.

Brian looks deeply into himself to find what he, and the rest of America yearns for-- good times in the face of the violently bad; a return to romance. Yet, he could not ignore what else was brewing within him and America as well-- turmoil, fear, terror, and resignment. He did not achieve this through introspection alone-- with the help of psychedelic and hallucinogenic drugs that took the youth of America by storm, he was able to expand his mind and the scope of what music was. He turned his feelings into grandiose instrumentation, and took those instruments into a studio, and in turn, made the studio into an instrument as he produced and wrote the entirety of Pet Sounds by himself. Brian Wilson, at 23 years old, created the first ever concept album-- an album for only listening. A narrative of a love that falls apart that is littered with self-doubt, worry, desperation, and a keen sense of pure innocence. A work of art.

The album’s opener is The Beach Boys’s most popular song, “Wouldn’t It Be Nice,” a relatively cheerful song about running away with your love from a society that refuses to accept that same love-- a feeling that hit home for the slowly growing LGBT community in the 60s, but also for the America that wants to escape. In “I Know There’s An Answer,” Brian (following an acid trip) sings about people who are close-minded and yearns to know exactly why they’re the way that they are-- echoing the counterculture’s questioning of the status quo through its exploration of sexuality, spirituality, and mainly drugs. Through “I Just Wasn’t Made For These Times,” he speaks of how he doesn’t feel like he has a place in the world, isolated, confused, and almost defeated-- again, previously unexplored topics in music before its release. In the album’s closing track, “Caroline, No,” the unnamed, hypothetical girl that Brian Wilson sings about (and to) through the album’s run is described to have changed so much that he cannot even recognize her, and he questions whether or not things may ever return to normal-- these sentiments are sent off with a train whirring past as dogs bark amongst the cacophony. 

These ideas bleed throughout the 60s and its constant evolution back then and today-- will things ever return back to normal? Although the counterculture that The Beach Boys are attempting to embrace is pushing what that normal is-- will that constant change ever cease? Will there ever be a time where The Beach Boys, and effectively, America, feel safe?

In the creation of the unreleased 1967 album SMiLE, The Beach Boys attempted to define what America is in order to preserve whatever of it they could save, and its collapse echoed the collapse of the 60s’ beloved fervor and wild personality. The 60s’ ideals of peace, love, and connection are kicking into high gear in the escalation of the conflict in Vietnam. 

These great ambitions are shared by Brian Wilson, who aspires to meet the outrageous expectations that came with the release of Pet Sounds, and he clamors to put together material for the album-- his “teenage symphony to God.” He smokes weed and drops acid time and time again. He competes with himself and his band. He comes to the realization that he can tell the story of America with music.

Emboldened, Brian heads to the recording studio and records, records, records. He creates bits and fragments of instrumentation that, when eventually combined, are to create “mini-symphonies” that each carry their own distinctly American narratives-- like reaching Plymouth Rock (“Do You Like Worms?”), the genocide of the Native Americans at the hands of colonists (“Heroes and Villains”), the building of the transcontinental railroad (“Cabinessence”), and the Chicago fire’s blazen destruction (“Mrs. O’Leary’s Cow”). Amongst those narratives lies themes of innocence, wellness, and unfettered energy.

The aforementioned themes come together in pop music’s greatest and most expensive song ever created: “Good Vibrations,” the last No.1 hit from The Beach Boys that was supposed to be SMiLE’s greatest hit. It’s an electrifying single that features the innovative use of a theremin, wildly piercing triplets on the cello, genuine musical movements, the voices of The Boys in sheer celebration, and one of two songs that shows Brian’s fully realized talent.

“Surf’s Up,” in that regard, is the other display of Brian’s fully realized talent. It is a dramatic and evocative symphony that recounts a spiritual awakening, resignment, and an unanswered hope for innocence’s return.

If “Good Vibrations” is the 60s the America remembers through rose-tinted glasses-- an era of love, passion, peace, celebration, and innovation-- then “Surf’s Up,” the soul of SMiLE, is the 60s America sees without those glasses-- an era where a collective aspiration was to cling onto a form that was rapidly deteriorating before the eyes of the public. 

SMiLE’s collapse, following tensions regarding management, excessive drug consumption, Carl Wilson’s (the youngest Wilson brother) draft evasion, and heavy expectations, is a representation of that 60s aspiration’s collapse. It is from Pet Sounds where the 60s expresses its uncertainty and fear, and it is through the absence of SMiLE where the 60s falls apart and leaves America wondering if it will ever return.

In the 2014 biopic Love and Mercy (dir. Bill Pohlad), this saga is explored through a younger Brian Wilson (played by Paul Dano) who represents The Beach Boys in the 60s, and an older Brian Wilson (played by John Cusack) who represents The Beach Boys beyond the 60s. Dano is energetic, troubled, creative, and impulsive. Cusack, on the other hand, is a shell, weathered, depressed, and traumatized-- it is a drama of Brian’s psyche that echoes the drama of two differing accounts of the 60s that makes The Beach Boys’s story, and in turn, the 60s so palatable, compelling, and relevant to this day.

Brian Wilson, with SMiLE, you aspired to define America. Yet, it is with your Pet Sounds and SMiLE that The Beach Boys became “America’s band”, and that 60s America is defined as a dreamland and hellscape; a drama. A drama that lingers, ghosting about, crafting America into a world forever changed by the 60s that dared to see the country’s innocence protected and preserved.

[thoughtlessghost]

Salem ou alekoum fellow disbelievers,

I decided to write this story down because one of my friends is currently questioning Islam. She said it might be a good idea for me to share my journey to help her and others find inner peace once you have walk out of something you grew up thinking was correct. I think I will make this a 2-3 parts series depending on interest and how she deals with just part 1. There's a lot to go through, and I will try to be brief, but I do not mind elaborating on any section in the comments or private. I am very open and confident about who and what I am. Finally, I want to have at least one part dedicated to my current worldview with the hopes of helping you guys create your moral landscape.

Finally, I would like to complete this preface by saying that I know that we all have personal reasons for leaving a Religion. Some of you have left the faith because you felt as though it was too controlling; others may have felt that God was simply too cruel. I will say that in the end, those were not the deciding factors for me. In my view, only Truth matters. Therefore, for me to stop believing in a concept, it merely has to be proven untrue, whether scientifically or logically. So my journey of leaving Islam did not originate because I had problems with its takes on the world. They occurred in large part because I feel as though Islam is inconsistent with our understanding of the natural world. Given the purpose of writing this is to help people, and that most people don't make decisions based on logic, I will try and emphasize how events and not thoughts affected my worldview to help illustrate how and when the transition occurred.

1. Humble beginnings: I know everybody has a different upbringing, so I would like to give you guys some context of how familiar I was with Islam growing up as a child (4-12). For starters, I am the eldest son of first-generation Algerian immigrants to Canada. This is just to tell you I'm brown, and I went to a school surrounded by non-muslims. In school, I was a troublemaker. I was basically this brainy kid who cared so little of rules and norms that I was almost transferred to this school for a learning disability. In response, my dad would beat the shit out of me every day for not being an obedient student despite my grades being decent (during that period B to B+). Despite his sincerest efforts, I never learned or changed. I'm only saying this because it made Arabic school impossible for my parents to manage since I simply refused to do my regular homework from school. My thinking was something like this: "What's the point of going to ANOTHER school on the weekend and spend all of my time off doing pointless alphabetical exercises in a language no one other than my parents spoke?" This, in turn, limited my exposure to Islam since I didn't interact with other Muslim kids. Finally, my parents bestowed upon me few Islamic teachings or practices. For instance, I fasted, I didn't eat pepperoni pizza, I was a relatively good kid, and I knew of prayer. Still, it wasn't something we did in our household. So I basically ended up with the same amount of knowledge of Islam and Arabic as Mohammed did when he was visited by Gabriel.

2. The quest begins: By the time I reached 14, I began to change mentally (One would only hope). I had stopped being this rebellious kid and became a book worm. I read encyclopedias, watched documentaries, binged read Wikipedia and genuinely wanted to learn everything the world had to offer. Therefore, religion seemed like the next logical step. Another reason that pushed me to that position is my first adolescent trip to Algeria. It was the first time I had truly been exposed to Islam, and I felt like I got a good whiff of what it meant to be a Muslim. And so, I decided I had now come of age and was of sufficient maturity to read the Quran and become a proper Muslim. I purchased a translated version of the Holy Book and waited until nightfall to open it. I vividly remember the mindset I put myself in before opening the book. I told myself the following things:

1. Bismillah. (YAH BOY) 2. I am about to read a book written by a being that is not human. (how fucking cool is that?!) 3. It is a book of ultimate and limitless knowledge and is the literal word of God.   4. It will guide me now and forever, for it is a timeless work meant to guide all of humanity.

By the time I made it halfway through Al-Baqarah, the second chapter of the book, I was mortified. For whatever reason, God presented himself as a terrifying merciless being. So many verses spoke about how powerful God was, and for some reason, it felt weird to me. It's almost like Bill Gates flaunting billions at a homeless person or a fisherman trying to shame a fish on how it cant breathe once it's out of water. I also felt as though too many verses spoke about eternal damnation instead of collective upbringing. In essence, it wasn't the book I expected. I was hoping for the key to save my soul and help humanity. All that ran through my head was that I was unworthy and had to dedicate myself or else face the consequences. But I persevered. Over the next few days, I kept reading while trying to keep an open mind, but I was definitely feeling perplexed. What I could not wrap my head around was the following: If God can indeed do anything, why can't he have a son?  Like all this talk about how Powerful he is, but he can't have a son?

It was around this time I started to explore other religions. However, there were so many religions that existed that it would take an eternity to study and contemplate every single one. So I elaborated the following shortcuts:

1. I skipped Judaism because a "true" faith can't have fewer subscribers than the city of New York. That also threw a bunch of other religions out the window. In my view, a Divine being should do a good job of spreading his work even if he has to do it remotely. 2. I skipped polytheistic religions like Hinduism because multiple Gods seemed odd to me. 3. Buddhism didn't have a deity, can we, therefore, call it a religion?

By that flawless logic (lol), I thought that Christianity was likely to be the One True Faith. But there were inconsistencies. For starters, the faith had multiple subdivisions and multiple versions given the Bible was written after the life of Jesus. Suffice to say, I agreed with most Muslim criticisms towards Christianity's essence manipulated by men. If Christianity is the real deal, then God would have cared a little more. As a side note to my thinking, the book of Narnia really helped me appreciate Christianity. It portrayed a more merciful caring version of God that wanted what was best for his disciples and all that existed. Yet the feeling of a merciful and just God was simply not sufficient to make me convert.

And so I started to think about atheism. However, I could still feel the presence of God. In the end, I just felt discouraged. I wrapped my head around the whole thing when I realized there was a possibility I was simply too immature to understand Islam or the Quran. So, in the end, I decided to postpone my immersion in the faith until later.

3. I committed: By the time I reached 16, I had started rereading the Quran, which actually flowed better this time around. I was relieved to know that my 14-year-old self was simply too childish. Eventually, I stumbled upon a verse akin to the following: Oh, Believers look into the world, and you shall see evidence of Islam. It felt as though God challenged me to learn science and search for proof of his existence in the natural world. And so, I did.

So one thing that occurred to me growing up is that I wanted to learn everything. By the time I reached 12, I thought to myself that if I knew every word in the dictionary, I would end up knowing everything. But the dictionary was dull. So, I decided that if I know how all things came about by reading history, then I would end up knowing everything. So when I read that verse that said learn science, I was ecstatic.  I just doubled down on my readings and started to focus more on scientific theories. I read about physics and the origin of the universe. I read on chemistry and the nature of matter and atomic bonds. By the time I reached biology, Darwinism quickly became very problematic. I thought really long and hard about how to counter it. I started to read into Intelligent Design and watched Islamic Scholars debate atheists. Still, it didn't make sense to me since the evidence for evolution was just overwhelming.

I voiced some of my concerns to a Muslim friend of mine in High School, and we had this long-winded conversation in which he convinced me he was right. I wish I remembered exactly what he said, but I remember him instilling upon me enough doubt to make me not drop the faith. Following that conversation, I decided it was time to commit to Islam finally. Here are a few things I started to do: 1. I started praying 5-7 times per day. 2. I read the Quran. 3. I would watch videos daily on what it meant to be a Muslim and how I can improve on my practice. 4. I would fast every once a while. 5. I went to the mosque whenever I could since it was far from where I lived. 6. I even helped start our prayer group in High School. In that group, we would all sit and eat together. We shared food, laughter and drinks. We were a brotherhood through and through, and for a time, it was good.

Reflecting on this period, I was one standard deviation from being in a CIA hit list. I literally messaged Benjamin Netanyahu on YT, encouraging him to stop his occupation of Palestine and to seak a peaceful approach when engaging with my brothers and sisters. Despite these friendly messages, some darker thoughts flowed through me. So I will say that there definitely is some credence to the idea that the more radical a Muslim is, the more you should worry about him, especially if he is a dude.

So when I say I genuinely believed 100% of what the Quran said, I really did. Some people will say: "Well, yea, I also used to be that way too." Well, I think I took it to another degree. For instance, when I used to walk, I would think to myself there are two people next to me—these immortal, holy beings made of light were sent by God to watch over my every move. I must, therefore, walk and behave in the utmost perfect ways to not only impress them but also uphold my honour. I was 16. 

4.The Masturbation/sleep problem:

Now I'm going to say that the period mentioned above lasted about 6 months. During this period, despite my holier than thou behaviour, I was still a man, and I had urges dawg. Every once in awhile, i.e, once a week, I would lament hypothetically at my hypocrisy. Repression creates obsession; truer words have never been spoken. The more I fought my urges not to masturbate, THE MORE I HAD TO. I created this whole inner mathematical system based on the number 19 since its a particular Islamic number. Basically, I would only masturbate around times when I could calculate 19. To me, it meant God approved of my addiction. I ended up using the time since my alarm clock was next to me. Its such warped logic don't look too much into it for when there is a will there is a way and I can get creative. Here are a few noteworthy examples:

1.Its 1:09 AM. Shit that's 19 to me since all you have to do is ignore the 0, and you have 19. 2. Its 1:45 AM. You guessed it 19. 3.7:00 PM. 19. 4. 12:07 PM. Unzip. 5. 12:17. PM shit, that's 19 too. 12+(1 times 7). Guess its Time for round 2.   6. 12:35 PM. FUCK I have to again you see 1+2+35=38, which is 19 times 2. EYYYY

[Insert COOMER MEME.]

To get over this dissonance, the Devil was responsible for these intrusive thoughts. I was a holy man of God, after all. But the voice that told me to unzip my pants and wax my carrot was the EXACT same voice that told me to go bed when I didn't want too. In the end, I knew deep down temptation doesn't come from the Devil. It comes from me. I decide what I do with my life, not some off-world entity. Keep in mind for later its just this thing I noticed. The Mosque event: So the day started like any other Friday prayer. The Imam began to speak about how God has no equal. He went on about how great and awesome of a sky Chad he was. He said that although he had no equal, there was another being that was insanely powerful as well. My eyes lit up, for I loved Islamic lore. He said that among non-God entities, the strongest was Gabriel. Eventually, he went on to say how to associate any other thing to God's power was literally the worst crime a human could commit. Shirk was worse than murder, he said. It literally guarantees you a trip to Hell.

And so given that I was human when I am told not to think about something, I immediately start to think about it. So I began to think well what if Gabriel stood up to God. I do not know what came over me but I got a literal panic attack from this. [Insert meme it was at this moment he knew he fucked up]

As the Imam had so eloquently put it to associate anything to God, you just committed the worst sin ever. I kept trying to tell myself not to think about it. Still, it just kept repeating it over and over again despite my sincerest efforts. I legit left the mosque and went back home and prayed all night, hoping God would forgive me.

The next morning was wild. I was basically schizophrenic since I kept thinking God was going to smite me for I have sinned. Crossing the street was so hard since I felt God would turn a car invisible and run me over or would simply kill me there where I stood. I lived in utter fear since I felt as though I had a bounty on my head. The inner world that I worked so hard to create had fallen apart from stupid, intrusive, thoughts. How the mighty have fallen.

5.Rethinking the Conspiracies:

A few days later, I started to rethink everything inside my head once I started to calm down. I felt as though my fears were way too irrational for the type of person I usually am and that I could not regain my sanity by thinking I was unworthy. I just simply had to work my way back up to the top fam.

During this time, I also began to rethink my understanding of the political world. For starters, as far back as I can remember, I have always been anti-authority. I believed in political realism, and so large corporations or governments always used their powers to oppress others. And so, what began as a soft-hearted liberal who thought 911 was an inside job turned into a cult of devil worshippers who rule the world and are trying to get us into the End Times.

This political worldview of a small elite who use the Devil to gain off-world power was further validated my understanding of Islam. In my view, the END WAS NEAR. Eventually, people took my ideas and thoughts in High School, and it became its own thing. Just to give you context on the time here, but it was when Lady Gaga dropped Bad Romance, and Kanye West and Jay-Z dropped Watch The Throne. We would analyze the videos and look for satanic imagery, but I always felt like that was a tad bit too far. Why are they being so apparent about something that's supposed to be secret? Predictive-Programming can only go so far after all. I began to pushback on this worldview, and I went so far back that Islam was caught in the cross-fire.

This turned into a three-month-long journey. I started by revisiting natural selection, and I realized that I duped myself. I just did not understand natural selection well enough to defend my position 6 months ago. I read The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins. I binged watched George Carlin, and he really helped me overcome any anxiety I had towards leaving my faith because, like him, I really did want to believe in a deity, but I started to realize all of the inconsistencies. [I will elaborate more on this in a later part]

5. The social consequences: By the time I left my faith, I was open about it. I have always been vocal about what I believe in, and I simply told all of my prayer brothers why I stopped going to prayer. Needless to say, they weren't pleased about it. Unlike Elementary School and as a result of our immigration policies, High School had more Muslims in it, and many hated or criticized me for questioning the faith. As time went on, they became more toxic and vicious in their opposition, and so I called them out on their shit. I told them that I am on a journey like each and every one of them, and if they don't want to talk to me anymore, I would not care, and if they wanted to fight me, then bring it on. It was the last time any of them said anything to my face that was negative. Some of them never spoke to me again, some spoke to me less. I respected their choice and moved on; whether they respected mine mattered not. All that I cared about was that I felt that I was moving forward in my life. Eventually, the Muslim prayer group fell apart, and everything went back to normal in my High School.

Now, all of what I wrote happened about 10 years ago, and despite standing up to my fellow peers, I still haven't mustered up the courage to tell my parents. Honestly, I'm glad I still haven't. To this day, I have a good relationship with them, and they are far more religious now than they were. It seems like an egregiously unnecessary thing to do that will not only sour my relationship with them but also with their future grandkids. That just seems too selfish for my liking despite my usual vocal tendencies.

End of part 1.

[ad-astra-zenith]

Alexander Hamilton: Account of a Hurricane

[This post is in honour of those who have suffered at the wake of such devastation. It would be that with each passing year the hurricanes are becoming more aggressive in their nature.]

Alexander Hamilton without a doubt was a man of words. The very reason he managed to escape the clutches of poverty and invisibility was because of his eloquence when it came to the quill.

His 'Account of a Hurricane' is considered one of his greatest works as it was what truly brought change upon his life.

This is why I feel it is my obligation to share it with you. I truly do hope that you take the time and read the wondrous writings of this historical figure who help shaped what is arguably one of the most influential countries of this age.

.

.

Saint Croix, September 6, 1772

Honoured Sir,

I take up my pen just to give you an imperfect account of the most dreadful hurricane that memory or any records whatever can trace, which happened here on the 31st ultimo at night.

It began about dusk, at North, and raged very violently till ten o'clock. Then ensued a sudden and unexpected interval, which lasted about an hour. Meanwhile the wind was shifting round to the South West point, from whence it returned with redoubled fury and continued so till near three o'clock in the morning. Good God! what horror and destruction—it's impossible for me to describe—or you to form any idea of it. It seemed as if a total dissolution of nature was taking place. The roaring of the sea and wind—fiery meteors flying about in the air—the prodigious glare of almost perpetual lightning—the crash of the falling houses—and the ear-piercing shrieks of the distressed, were sufficient to strike astonishment into Angels. A great part of the buildings throughout the Island are levelled to the ground—almost all the rest very much shattered—several persons killed and numbers utterly ruined—whole families running about the streets unknowing where to find a place of shelter—the sick exposed to the keenness of water and air—without a bed to lie upon—or a dry covering to their bodies—our harbour is entirely bare. In a word, misery in all its most hideous shapes spread over the whole face of the country.— A strong smell of gunpowder added somewhat to the terrors of the night; and it was observed that the rain was surprisingly salt. Indeed, the water is so brackish and full of sulphur that there is hardly any drinking it.

My reflections and feelings on this frightful and melancholy occasion are set forth in following self-discourse.

Where now, Oh! vile worm, is all thy boasted fortitude and resolution? what is become of thy arrogance and self-sufficiency?—why dost thou tremble and stand aghast? how humble—how helpless—how contemptible you now appear. And for why? the jarring of the elements—the discord of clouds? Oh, impotent presumptuous fool! how darest thou offend that omnipotence, whose nod alone were sufficient to quell the destruction that hovers over thee, or crush thee into atoms? See thy wretched helpless state and learn to know thyself. Learn to know thy best support. Despise thyself and adore thy God. How sweet—how unutterably sweet were now the voice of an approving conscience;—then couldst thou say—hence ye idle alarms—why do I shrink? What have I to fear? A pleasing calm suspense! a short repose from calamity to end in eternal bliss?—let the earth rend, let the planets forsake their course—let the sun be extinguished, and the heavens burst asunder—yet what have I to dread? my staff can never be broken—in omnipotence I trust.

He who gave the winds to blow and the lightnings to rage—even him I have always loved and served—his precepts have I observed—his commandments have I obeyed—and his perfections have I adored.—He will snatch me from ruin—he will exalt me to the fellowship of Angels and Seraphs, and to the fulness of never ending joys.

But alas! how different, how deplorable—how gloomy the prospect—death comes rushing on in triumph veiled in a mantle of ten-fold darkness. His unrelenting scythe, pointed and ready for the stroke.—On his right hand sits destruction, hurling the winds and belching forth flames;—calamity on his left threatening famine, disease, distress of all kinds.—And Oh! thou wretch, look still a little further; see the gulf of eternal mystery open—there mayest thou shortly plunge — the just reward of thy vileness.—Alas! whither canst thou fly? where hide thyself? thou canst not call upon thy God;—thy life has been a continual warfare with him.

Hark! ruin and confusion on every side.—Tis thy turn next: but one short moment—even now—Oh Lord help—Jesus be merciful!

Thus did I reflect, and thus at every gust of the wind did I conclude,—till it pleased the Almighty to allay it.—Nor did my emotions proceed either from the suggestion of too much natural fear, or a conscience overburdened with crimes of an uncommon cast.—I thank God this was not the case. The scenes of horror exhibited around us, naturally awakened such ideas in every thinking breast, and aggravated the deformity of every failing of our lives. It were a lamentable insensibility indeed, not to have had such feelings,—and I think inconsistent with human nature.

Our distressed helpless condition taught us humility and a contempt of ourselves.—The horrors of the night—the prospect of an immediate cruel death—or, as one may say, of being crushed by the Almighty in his anger—filled us with terror. And everything that had tended to weaken our interest with Him, upbraided us, in the strongest colours, with our baseness and folly.—That which, in a calm unruffled temper, we call a natural cause, seemed then like the correction of the Deity.—Our imagination represented him as an incensed master, executing vengeance on the crimes of his servants.—The father and benefactor were forgot, and in that view, a consciousness of our guilt filled us with despair.

But see, the Lord relents—he hears our prayers—the Lightning ceases—the winds are appeased—the warring elements are reconciled, and all things promise peace.—The darkness is dispelled—and drooping nature revives at the approaching dawn. Look back, Oh, my soul—look back and tremble.—Rejoice at thy deliverance, and humble thyself in the presence of thy deliverer.

Yet hold, Oh, vain mortal!—check thy ill-timed joy. Art thou so selfish as to exult because thy lot is happy in a season of universal woe?—Hast thou no feelings for the miseries of thy fellow-creatures, and art thou incapable of the soft pangs of sympathetic sorrow?—Look around thee and shudder at the view.—See desolation and ruin wherever thou turnest thine eye. See thy fellow-creatures pale and lifeless; their bodies mangled—their souls snatched into eternity—unexpecting—alas! perhaps unprepared!—Hark the bitter groans of distress—see sickness and infirmities exposed to the inclemencies of wind and water—see tender infancy pinched with hunger and hanging to the mother's knee for food!—see the unhappy mother's anxiety—her poverty denies relief—her breast heaves with pangs of maternal pity—her heart is bursting—the tears gush down her cheeks—Oh sights of woe! Oh distress unspeakable!—my heart bleeds—but I have no power to solace!—Oh ye, who revel in affluence, see the afflictions of humanity, and bestow your superfluity to ease them.—Say not, we have suffered also, and with-hold your compassion. What are your sufferings compared to these? Ye have still more than enough left.—Act wisely.—Succour the miserable and lay up a treasure in Heaven.

I am afraid, sir, you will think this description more the effort of imagination, than a true picture of realities. But I can affirm with the greatest truth, that there is not a single circumstance touched upon which I have not absolutely been an eye-witness to.

Our General has several very salutary and human regulations, and both in his public and private measures has shown himself the man.

[eat0crow]

Cataclysm

Miraculer left me hungry for world building so here, have at it. How I reason out cataclysm’s effects.

Side note, this has mentions of torture. nothing is explicit just sorta vaguely mentioned but I’m going to warn you anyway.

____

“So,” Adrien says, flopping onto his bed and burying his face into the pillows. “That’s what a cataclysm feels like.” 

It’s been a few hours since they had defeated the Akuma. Since Ladybug had cast her magical cure and reversed all the damage. He’s been healed for a while now and can say with confidence that the mark no longer hurts. No, he doesn’t hurt anymore. He aches. 

 An ache like nothing he’s ever felt in his life, different from fatigue or strain. It cuts down to his very soul. An ache he feels so deeply he isn’t sure just where it starts and where it ends.

“Yeah no. Not so much,” Plagg says, he’s followed Adrien’s example and thrown himself down onto a pillow. Close but far enough not to touch.

“What.” Adrien’s voice comes out muffled.

“I wouldn’t really know, Tikki would,” Plagg sighs, he never likes to have this talk with his kittens. “But kid, Cataclysm has the power to destroy a miraculous. When used on a person, seriously used on a person, not just the watered-down version that Hawkmoth’s Akumas can produce things go much much differently.”

“You mean it’s worse.” Adrien can’t really understand how it could be. Even with the power of  Ladybug’s miraculous cure he still feels the phantom sensations of the magic snaking its way through his body. He still has the black tendrils localized at the point of contact and branching out, reaching and reaching toward his heart.

“Despite how it may seem the butterfly does have limits.” And God, if Plagg isn’t thankful for that. “One of those limits just so happens to be the fact that it can’t truly duplicate the power of another miraculous. The magic just isn’t there.”

Adrien lifts his head and looks up, meeting Plagg’s eye. “What would happen than if I used cataclysm on a person.”

“It depends kid.” It did Plagg’s seen it used so many different ways on the body. Every time he thinks he’s found the limit, every time he thinks that this has to be it, he’ll get a kitten that surprises him.

It’s never a nice surprise.

“On what?” 

“A lot. On intent. On target. On focus. There’s any number of things that affect how cataclysm reacts to a human body. The corruption, that’s not it. Trust me.”

Adrien drags himself up into a sitting position. This is serious, the sort of conversation that requires every ounce of your attention. “So you have to really mean it then, for Cataclysm to kill someone. You have to really want that person dead.”

“You have to mean it. I just have to be careless. The dinosaurs really were an accident, you know.” That’s the greatest difference between the two of them. Chat Noir is destruction concentrated and focused on a single thing. Plagg, he’s destruction in its purest form given shape.

“Why would Ladybug’s kwami know what your power feels like?” Adrien asks.

“Look, kid,” Plagg sighs, trying to think of how to phrase this delicately. He’s not a teacher or at least not a good one. Tikki has firmly held that role for all the millennia he’s known her.

“Plagg why would Tikki know what it feels like for her holder to be cataclysmed if it hasn’t happened before.” It’s the logical conclusion to come to, the only one that makes sense.

That doesn’t mean Plagg is particularly thrilled to explore it.

He will. Because he opened this can of worms. He just won’t be happy about it.

“Do you remember what I told you when you first opened the box.” Plagg has been giving the same speech for the last four centuries. Particularly once he realized just how clueless those who opened his box were.

Would it be too much to ask the guardians to…I don’t know attach a note.

The answer was apparently yes. It was too much to expect them to inform the chosen exactly what they were chosen for.

“You said that my job was to protect the Ladybug,” Adrien says, that’s the thing Plagg has always stressed. No matter how lax the kwami behaves he has always stressed that Chat Noir’s job above all else was to protect the Ladybug.

“Yes well, not all my kittens have taken that to heart.” 

Plagg thinks he’s gotten better over the centuries at pushing this. The look of genuine confusion that crosses Adrien’s face makes him wonder if he’s gotten a bit too good at it.

It’s certainly bred some less than ideal habits into his kitten.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that my cats have killed just as many Ladybugs as they’ve protected.” 

“The Ladybug and Black Cat are two halves of a whole, they can’t be awakened without each other.” Plagg shakes his head and takes a deep breath, “Out of all of us, my miraculous has been misused the most and because of that Ladybugs have found themselves facing Black Cats across the battlefield more times than I would like.”

The color drains from Adrien’s face, he feels sick. “You mean cataclysm has killed a Ladybug before.”

“Cataclysm has been used to do much more than to just kill a Ladybug.” Plagg crosses his fingers and hopes that this won’t upset his kitten too much.

There is a long bloody history between miraculous.

The Ladybug and Black Cats especially.

“Does ladybug know about this? Is this why she’s so against revealing ourselves, she’s scared of me,” Adrien says, he hopes not.

He’s not entirely sure how he can bring himself to face her come the next battle.

“You have to understand kid…what some of my past holders have done…I’m destruction in its purest form and destruction is a temptation that’s hard to ignore.” Plagg wishes he could lie. 

He can’t though, not about this.

“So she is then, she’s scared of me.” It would make sense. It would explain so much about the distance she keeps between them. 

Understanding does little to ease the knots that form in Adrien’s stomach.

“No no, she’s not.” Plagg’s out of his depth. He’s not a comforting presence, he knows. But his kitten looks so crushed…he can try. “She trusts you with her life, anyone with eyes can see that.”

“Then why is she so against knowing who I am?” Adrien’s voice has gotten thicker. He doesn’t want to cry over this. He doesn’t…it just hurts.

It hurts to think that after everything they’ve been through she would fear him. That’s the absolute last thing he would ever want from her. 

“That’s Tikki’s influence. She’s lost so many bugs in some of the most gruesome ways imaginable.” Plagg shakes his head the memories of all the Ladybugs he’s helped to kill are always just there, under the surface but there. 

“I would never.” Adrien’s voice is quiet barely above a whisper.

“I know you wouldn’t. Ladybug knows you wouldn’t. And I’m sure even Tikki knows. But we’ve been around humanity for a long time and old habits die hard.”

“Have things, have things really gotten that bad.”

“You know cataclysm relies on intent right. Well, not all my cats have wanted to kill with it. Some..some just wanted to use it to hurt.” Some of his holders had made death seem like a kindness.

“So cataclysm can be used…,” Adrien gulps and trails off reluctant to say the word.

“To torture yes. It can and has been used for torture more than once.”

“Oh God.” Adrien hunches forward and buries his face into his knees. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like to want to hurt someone that badly. To hate someone so strong that death would be a mercy.

He can’t even muster those feelings against Hawkmoth. 

“Kid! Kid listen to me,” Plagg says, coming to rest on top of Adrien’s knees. “It hasn’t just been used against Ladybugs, it’s been used against some of the worst people to ever come into existence.”

“That doesn’t make it better,” Adrien chokes out.

“Maybe it does, maybe it doesn’t but kid times have changed a lot over the last couple of centuries. Death on the battlefield, it wasn’t nearly as big of an issue as it is now.”

“But still how could…how could any black cat want to hurt their ladybug.” There’s just the smallest bit of wonder in Adrien’s voice. He can’t help it. He just can’t imagine ever turning against his partner.

“To be fair, while it hasn’t happened nearly as often it’s still happened. Not all Ladybugs have been saints. Tikki has been misused as well, arguably with even larger consequences than when I have been,” Plagg says.

“What’s it do. When it’s used on someone?”

Plagg doesn’t want to tell Adrien, really he doesn’t, but he’s started this conversation and he has to see it through. “Like I said it depends. The more malice the stronger the cataclysm…it depends on what you want. Do you want to kill them? Do you want to make them suffer? Where do you want to effect? All that changes things.”

“What does it do Plagg.” Adrien’s voice is sharp. 

“It turns them to dust. Eats away at them till there’s nothing left. Like I said it varies. When used to torture I’ve seen it rot down to the bone. I’ve seen it sever limbs and peel away skin. Once…once I even saw it erase someone out of existence.” That had been a particularly memorable use.

A cataclysm so strong that it was as if they had never existed, the very memory destroyed alongside the body.

“I don’t-I would never,” Adrien says, even though deep down, he terrified that he could.

“No, you wouldn’t. Kitten, I know you wouldn’t. You’re a good Black cat. One of the best.” Plagg comes to hover up to Adrien’s face. “You have to really mean it to use cataclysm like this. It’s not something you can do by accident, you have to want to hurt someone, want to make someone suffer down to the very core of your soul. That’s actually one reason the guardians started choosing children younger and younger to wield the miraculous. Kids just don’t have the malice that adults grow into. You don’t have that in you.”

“You’re sure?” Adrien wipes his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt.

“Positive.” and really Plagg is.

[officialyourdailyinspiration]

Why Will You Die?

by Albert Barnes

"Say to them: 'As I live,' says the Lord GOD, 'I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live. Turn, turn from your evil ways! For why will you die?'" - Ezekiel 33:11

It is the unalterable purpose of God that the wicked shall turn or die. He would not expostulate with them in this solemn manner if there were no danger, and if no such purpose were formed. It is not the manner of our Maker to assume earnestness when it is uncalled for, or to use words that are unmeaning, or to make appeals that are designed needlessly to alarm men. Yet many profess to hold that all men will be saved. They think there is no danger of eternal death and that alarm is needless. Tell me, then, what is the meaning of the solemn address in the text? Would he use this language if there were no danger? Would he use it if he knew that all men were to be saved?

But will he not pity and save him who has no feeling or desire to be saved? I answer, No. It is not the fault of God that the sinner does not feel, for truth has been revealed suitable to make him do so. Nor is it because the truth is not plain enough. I ask you, is not the ground of your complaint not that it is not plain enough but that it is too plain? Is not that your feeling today? You are insensible, you say, to your condition. How has this been produced? By God? I answer, No. It has been produced by resisting his appeals, slighting his warnings, grieving his Spirit, refusing to listen to his messengers. You have sought this insensibility and loved it, and would allow nothing to rouse you from it. You have made up your mind on the subject, and now will you blame God? You may close your eyes to the frightful precipice of which a friend warns you, but will you say that you might not have seen the danger? God is not to blame when men are blind to their own interests. He has told you what you are--a lost sinner. He has told you what is before you--death. He has apprised you when it will come--soon. He has lifted the veil and shown you his throne, his judgment-bar, and the world of woe to come.

And now, who is to blame if the sinner is unmoved and unconcerned? With the proof of guilt God has furnished, the solemn warning in the Bible, and the exhibition of the death of Jesus for your sins, if you are still unmoved, will you blame God? What other truths could you ask or expect to impress the mind? There are no other, no higher truths than these. Heaven has no other than to offer its eternal bliss to mortals. Hell has no other than to threaten its eternal woes. The grave has no other than to assure you that you must all sleep and molder there. God has no higher truth than to declare his conviction of the guilt and danger of man, to proclaim his love by the gift of his Son to die, to offer himself as the portion of the soul and his heaven as our home, and to invite as a Father and to threaten as a God in order to induce us to return to himself. If the sinner is insensible, he has none to blame but himself. If he dies, he dies with the assurance often made to him--made to him till he was weary of it--that it was the unalterable purpose of God that the wicked should turn or die.

What is that death? Hear him speak who saw it all, and who knew it all: "The Son of man shall send forth his angels and shall gather out of his kingdom all things that offend, and them which do iniquity, and shall cast them into a furnace of fire; there shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth." There the sufferer shall lift up the eyes, "being in torment," and ask in vain for a single drop of water to cool the tongue; there "the worm dies not, and the fire shall not be quenched." Everlasting punishment shall be there, outer darkness, the execution of the sentence, "Depart, accursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels." I have used only the words of the meek, mild and benevolent Redeemer. He never concealed this danger. He never spoke or acted as if it did not exist. He was just as serious, solemn, and tender as if he felt that every man was in danger of it, otherwise he would never have left the heavens to save them.

I know not what eternal death is, but I can tell you some things. It is the abode of all the abandoned, and profane, and vile--the collected guilt and wretchedness of this world. It is a place where no sanctuary like this church opens its doors and invites you to heaven; where no message of mercy comes to the suffering and the sad. No Spirit strives there to reclaim the lost. No God meets the desponding there with promises and hopes, and from no eye is the tear of sorrow ever wiped away. It is death--lingering, long, interminable death--the dying sorrow prolonged from age to age onward, onward toward eternity, ever lingering, never ending.

Then why will you die? Why neglect the subject till you perish forever? I ask with earnestness and with affection, why, why will you die? What reason can be given why you should perish while others are saved? Is it because God is unwilling? That would be a reason if it were so, but look at his solemn oath in the text: "I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live." Is it because Christ is unwilling that you should be saved? That would be a reason if it were so, but hear him say, "Come unto me all ye that are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest." Is it because there is no room in heaven, because it is limited and is full? That would be a reason if it were true, but hear the Redeemer say, "And yet there is room." Is it because there are mountains of difficulties which you cannot overcome, because your sins are so great that they cannot be pardoned? That would be a reason if it were true, but hear the ever-blessed God say, "Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be white as wool."

Oh, that this question might be written in letters of living light in every assembly where you forget God, in the room where you sleep, and over your path every day as you go down to death! Why will ye die? Why go away from the cross? Why turn your backs on heaven? Why be miserable forever? Why linger on to all eternity in that immortal pain which never ceases, in the horrors of that death which never dies?