Dear widow of Seraphath,
I learned from a commando buddy of mine to leave every day with a loaded gun. It’s a dangerous world out there. I learned to load my gun with bullets, every day. No matter how tiresome or difficult, no matter how much weaponry it might seem that I don’t need, I learned and APPLIED that lesson. Shrapnel wounds up his shins when of 76 in his platoon only 24 survived. He was among them. Last I knew, he works as a security guard. But I learned to load all my weapons every morning before ever I leave. Aren’t you going to prepare ahead of time? He said the same to me one time when I had decided to “wing it.” I didn’t listen to him, and I did just fine. Better, I thought, than if I had prepared. But a drought came, and the magic was gone. After that, I learned my lesson very well. Prepare ahead. I fell, and I fell hard. But I learned my lesson. I learned to prepare ahead of time. Thanks to a Peruvian military commando.
Dear Woman taken in adultery,
I fill my weapons with bullets. I fill my weapons every morning. It’s a dangerous world out there. I feel bad for those who leave their confines any day without proper armour and weaponry. Even among those who have and could use the weapons, there are those who don’t. I know one like that. As of the 10 virgins, he just doesn’t believe in stocking up with oil–extra bullets, as it were, just in case the fire-fight gets hotter than predicted.
I got a feeling everything is going to be worse than any prediction. I think that every prediction will fail, but charity will not.
And I stock every chamber, every clip, every rocket I can muster every day BECAUSE I just MAY need it ALL. Usually I don’t need it. Sometimes, very little even gets used. But I stock up every day. And I arise, and I load y weapons for the many potential conflict of the day.
“Don’t sweat the small stuff…Water under the bridge…” So people say… “It’s in the past. Let it go.” But I…to me, the small stuff IS the big stuff. And small wars avoid big ones. Trump wants to flex his muscle on the big stage. I’ll flex mine on a flea. Trump wants to flout his billions. I’m happy with my two dollars. It’s all I have to spend. But my weapons he cannot have. My weapons he will never know. They are forged in alien technology. I am AND I AM NOT one of them. I was cast out as they, but I was different from them. But that’s a topic not to be discussed. EVER. My blood has a price. It is not FREE.
And I stock my bombs, my missiles, my grenades, my collapsers the size of the universe, my asteroids, my knives, my nooses, my bitterness. And I prepare for those fire-fights that will inevitably come with confrontation from those people who claim “triggering” and “probing” questions and immediately call the cops to arrest for “harassment.” And then in my jail cell #510 I stand a chance when it’s me against everyone. I survive intact. So that also up against evil doctors and goons I stand a chance when they strip away everyone. So that when the entire world stands against me, as God told Gideon, “they shall fall as though by ONE MAN”, that one man is me.
I will not give up. I will not give in. I will not surrender. Your Christianity, your religions, your chains, your ideologies will never bind me. And like Samson before me, even if you do capture me, I will pull your temples down on top of you. And I allow myself to be captured again and again. And killed again and again. For this very reason, to rest myself on the pillars of your temples and push them until they fall one and all, you bunch of two-face suck-up sycophant liar hypocrites of humanity. I defy you one and all.
Dear Daughter of Lot,
I am and shall always be Nihilism. Try to defeat me. I am nothing. I am the essence of nothingness. Less than a ghost. Try try try to defeat me. I am I am I am Nothing. Try to fight nothing. Try to fight nothingness. You will fail again and again. End with despair again and again. You will always fail. Raise me up, there is nothing there. It does no good to you or me. Cease and desist, please, Daughter of Lot.
And I laugh while you stare in disbelief that the foundation of all things is NOT YOUR JESUS–but nothing. And you say to me, You don’t believe in ghost stories like these? Well, you better start believin, Missy, ‘Cause you’re in one.
Try to define Nothing. Try to define it again and again. Wear yourself out in every attempt of your thin skin trying to define and re-define nothing. Try. Try. Try. Ha ha ha. Try. I dare you.
Dear Deborah Friend of Barak,
The foundation of all things is nothing. You have believed a lie. The foundation of all things is absolute nothing. Ha ha ha. Who has the last laugh now? Me? Or your Jesus pseudo-god?
You all wanted something solid. You wanted material. Well, here it is. Take it. It will only make you miserable. You will always find the opposite what you seek-until you learn to trust in NOTHING.
Dear Jesus Christ, known as such:
A word may be said for the wise who have learned the value of confidence. Who fear not even unto death. For fears are the foundation of EVERTHING. Even your Jesus, who said, “If it be possible, let this cup pass.” But he did not know when until dying on the cross, pronounced “Eli Eli lama sabacthani.” And people take it for granted. Still claim that God will never abandons them. Ever. Welcome to the famine, ya’ll. Nice knowin’ ya. welcome to the whole of nothingness. Welcome to the nothingness that IS the truth. There is only one truth–Nihilism. One rock. More solid than a diamond. Nihilism defeats all. Conquers wars. Destroys nations. Nihilism trumps all–even the all-powerful Donald.