IN the book tonight I used fire from his chest for the first time, reminding me of course of my vision of endless fire flowing from my chest, and endless lightening from my back, drawing on the earth and sky to destroy all life on the planet. A mercy killing for a world about to fall into post apocalyptic chaos, worse than any horror movie dared show. I feel like this, of course. Never powerless, always prepared to use these powers, but I think I only use them once, and that is in the end, activated by a God that does not tell me when the rage will drive me to become the apex of the powers of natural destruction. The conduit for the molten rock in the earth to flow across the green fields and forests and cities, wiping out all the hundreds of millions of years of evolution, leaving another dead planet in a cosmos filled with dead planets. A re jewel of life gone. Destroyed. No longer of use to souls... molecules that will eventually latch on elsewhere, grow life where there is none, a space surviving amoeba that will one day build castles against the storms.
The ones who died. I used to wonder if I was staying on my mission because to go off it would MEAN that none of it meant anything... that all the deaths were meaningless, the revolution a complete bust, a mission run by other people whom I got swept up with, though never really brought into the fold.... until it was too late. Until my actions had already condemned me in many eyes. As they might my own were I on the other side of the webcams watching me day and night, the tv performers commenting on my actions as they talked of me... all seemingly expecting me to choose some side... and then mistaking me again and again for this and that, a man who found the Anger He once felt in the Hebrew Psalms... though the same corruptions that drove him from the Jewish ways before manifested, even stronger this time since he grew up Baptist and ended up a vague believer in God.
I am sitting here tonight thinking ten years have passed since this started and I have learned I will mourn forever over this, as is right. The dead deserve more, though this is all I have to offer them. In the end they called us fallen angels. I told them from the start I am not an angel and took offense at it, though I confused the matter by calling myself one, than calling the gays angels one night and giving power to some who abused it.... I did not know how serious my words were being taken, many were meant to just be shocking, to flip out whoever had put me in the bizarre situation I was and would send me no open counsel. I did not realize there was a war involved with this Jesus, I wanted Peace all the way, no matter how we had to attain it. I became militarized by the brainwashing, lost to the world of humanity, a God above who heard of thousands dead, and had to let it go like a general in war. Never forgotten, though too destructive to my present work to completely accept and digest, another truth I have to partition off from my thinking.
The uproar I brought to this world, the intrusions on countries with mass killings, etc... are still vague, one or two sentence statements in my mind that mean next to nothing. If I leave this dome of Chicago, will I find truths too overwhelming for me to deal with. Will I read of the night they evacuated New York because we were going to blow the island all to hell. The near destruction of the English Isles? No. I will read about someone hated, or loved. I don't know. Some have a reason to hate me, some perhaps to love me.... I no longer know, if I ever did.
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