I want you to find love before it's too late.
I want you to find God before there's no precious time.
I want you to be with your loved ones as they love you.
I love you, and I love you better than ever.
You can see I'm here, in front of the lights, with family sitting on my porch. I'm here. I wait for you to come up and see me.
Like an older brother or sister whose daughter is still just a little girl. She is Good to you. And still, your sister is Good too. If she loves you, and if love is what you consider Good, be willing to never back out of it. Brother, sister, niece, cousins—do anything for any of them forever.
Aunt, mother, great-aunt, God-sister. As they grow closer to me, my heart thuds in my chest. By way of my desire to love them more, I can see their pain and hurt. Dust-bunnies and God’s little fleas, moving about the room. In order for me to become clean, I must submit to the world, submit to more life after death, and submit to the suffering that follows this world.
Sometimes I want to live it up. Something amazing. I want to live up something wonderful. A lot of times, I’m alone. We need inner quietness. That inner quietness of prayer, prayer for strength, prayer for my family to find peace.
I write in this way for the sake of my younger brother and sister, but I am a person of different character. A good life and bad luck. I don't like to live it. You and I, we’re reading together in prayer and love.
∞ Oceanía ∞ Oceanía ∞ Oceanía ∞ Oceanía ∞ Oceanía ∞ Oceanía ∞ Oceanía ∞ Oceanía ∞
There on the platform at the égly station. French 2016. Oceanía is walking around with her iPhone. God loves her. I’ll keep telling you God loves that girl!
I can't tell you just what kind of person she is, but I can tell you that she feels something so real. But I don't know what that means. It’s nighttime.
Her face, observed by ephebophiles around the station, is alluringly lit by her iPhone’s OLED light. She’s determined to shock her viewers.
God loves her so much. Her face lit in that pale seraphic beam. Oceanía steps in front of the arriving locomotive.
(I’m pulled down on my knees before I can go any further)
Her livestream stops from the trains impact (After reading news articles about that day, maybe it kept recording). She’ll be arrayed in fine linen, clean and white: for the fine linen is the righteousness of saints.
I start turning the bathtub faucet but really I’m turning your life into mine and my life into yours. And we go in a circle together Like carrousel. It’s been 5 years of me with my arms around you. But they really aren’t.
I find my favorite hard-cover book to crush pills on. I find Carson Mccullers Selected plays and other writings. Anaesthetised; I get abased. I get in. Un chien au bord de le mer.
I let the bath empty and follow the sound of Lohengrin: Elsas Brautzug zum Münster to the sand. I take some clothes off and make a pile on the shore. Up on the Cracked-up jetty, I feel the Clonazepam drip in my throat, the salt in my nose, the fog horn from an approaching ship in my ear. There I appear exhausted, worn, even tender. I put down my sword.
I arch my back up on a rock and lean beside another rock. I hear seagulls and water-on-rock crashing, everything goes away. Everything so real. Sedatd. There is a pause. Pure pause. The sound becomes muffled. Sedatd.
There’s a surface outstretched. Imagine windows on buildings where the water stops in Dakar; where the water stops in Cape Verde. My boots aren’t tied well. Vein after vein, more veins, and scratches show as I stand up on the jetty and see-saw my bare arms. A pulse, maybe my own, slows to an eternal ba bu, ba ba.
My heart stops and I’m on my way to see Jesus. I feel that, perhaps surrounded by this body of water, He has done some healing in my heart. Armies which were in heaven follow Him to me on white horses, clothed in fine linen, white and clean. And hadn’t a chance to catch myself, I’m in the Ocean.
beautiful