It’s on days like this when I wish God would just take me out of here. If it weren’t for my mom, I would have no reason to be here. I feel absolutely worthless and my prayers have gone unanswered. Maybe I’ve been wrong about everything, and if that’s true, I would rather seize to exist in death than to become one of them. At this point, I find comfort and solace in the mere thought of my absence from this world or any other world. To disappear into nothingness, why is that such a bad thing? The thought of heaven is so far from me right now. Hope and faith are dwindling faster than my bank account. It is not well with my soul and I feel forsaken by God, misguided again by mis and disinformation. Nothing has come true and I can’t stomach another Sunday. So, as you can probably guess, they are still not gone.
November 5, 2022
I’m seeing people in white t-shirts now everywhere I go, and although I have a vague understanding of what that means, I just don’t care. I’m tired of trying to figure it out. I’m sick of writing about this crap, I’m most definitely sick of dealing with it, and I’m also physically sick. How godless do you have to be to do this to someone?
In other news, Elon Musk is not the savior of free speech and I don’t trust him. I did, however, reactivate my Twitter account.
There they go again, responding to the television through clicks from my coffee pot and water cooler in an effort to communicate. I wonder if they know how much I hate them?
I don’t know, I’ve looked into this whole Q thing, and while it is intriguing, I don’t trust it. Do I believe that Satanic pedophiles involved in child sex-trafficking rings are ruling the country? How could I not, knowing what I know, but I have my doubts that Trump was trying to take these people down. Then again, he sure is hated by the establishment.
It’s on days like this when I miss my brother so very much.
The mocking birds have gone crazy today. They like to attack when I’m alone, and it’s effective, but I’m biting my tongue this time. I’m resisting the overwhelming desire to tell them to “F” off and to burn in hell.
The Apple and the birdcage 