Have mercy upon me, O God, according to Your lovingkindness; according to the multitude of Your tender mercies, blot out my transgressions.
Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin.
For I acknowledge my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me.
Against You, You only, have I sinned, and done this evil in Your sight that You may be found just when You speak, and blameless when You judge.
Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity, and in sin my mother conceived me.
Behold, You desire truth in the inward parts, and in the hidden part You will make me to know wisdom.
Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.
Make me to hear joy and gladness, that the bones which You have broken may rejoice.
Hide Your face from my sins, and blot out all my iniquities.
Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.
Do not cast me away from Your presence, and do not take Your Holy Spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of Your salvation, and uphold me with Your generous Spirit.
Then I will teach transgressors Your ways, and sinners shall be converted to You.
Deliver me from blood-guiltiness, O God, the God of my salvation, and my tongue shall sing aloud of Your righteousness.
O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth shall show forth Your praise.
For You do not desire sacrifice, or else I would give it; You do not delight in burnt offering.
The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit, a broken and a contrite heart –– these, O God, You will not despise,
Do good in Your good pleasure to Zion; build the walls of Jerusalem.
Then You shall be pleased with the sacrifices of righteousness, with burnt offering and whole burnt offering; then they shall offer bulls on Your altar.
Glory to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, now and ever and unto ages of ages. Amen.
-Psalm 50-51
All this was told to me by a person, perhaps the Most High himself...but no, the wicked one immediately told me, while a sudden chill gripped me. I'm walking in a corridor, those walls are like the walls of my crying, decorated with horse heads, full of mimicry of anger, and at the same time suffering. I see someone on a throne, surely Hades. He has the body of a centaur; but only with more items: it has full female breasts, a goat's head, and the rest are male features. It's him, Baphomet, with his little band of renegades. I thought, hmm... maybe they're still in their puberty and rebellion phase. He is surrounded by rich people, not by morals, but by pride. Lilith, Beelzebub, Moloch.. all teenagers look up to them, pff. Lilith looked at me seductively, with the intention of taking my soul. Her sculpted body was beautiful, but it's all a facade, and God knows what's under the mask. God, Adam was a weirdo, I thought. Why would I accept ephemeral pleasure for eternal regret? They underestimated me, I'm not that down-to-earth. The scepter-bearer speaks to me in a mysterious language that has not yet been deciphered by mankind, if it is not Adam's? I hope the Lord will turn them into pillars of salt. Then Behemoth asked me something:
- Your mother gave birth to you in temptation, so how can you resist us? Actually, who are you?
And I immediately answered him in a Faustian manner:
- I am part of the force that wants evil, but always does good.
I woke up, sleep is the greatest entertainment for the poor. I raised the blind, and saw a brilliant cumulonimbus. I spontaneously brushed my teeth with the opposite hand, so that I wouldn't always think like an Orwellian prole.
I entered the Ministry of Love (competing against other people's opinions or promoting ideological teachings). We had an oral test, and during that time, a girl involuntarily walks in, she feels compromised, for sure, so I give her some support - Don't worry, I feel like an intruder every time I step into my classroom.
I came back from school, nothing new, nor on the western front.
I would like to die dramatically, as Boymer (the protagonist of Remarque's famous novel) died, I thought to myself. All kinds of things come to my mind, the real power of ADHD, I would be energetic in the Middle Ages, which is not dark! While the Europeans were dealing with embryonic matters, the Muslims were dealing with philosophy, all recorded in the Baghdad Library. After working out, I go to sleep, so what's left for me? I am waiting for another original dream, a new nickname: Fantast.
God released the 4 horsemen of the apocalypse from the chain, they look lucid and sober, and at the same time, with an imperceptible smile, they trample over everything that comes their way, even what doesn't. First I noticed, the most conspicuous fourth rider, who deviates from everyone. He was the very intimation of death, and it can be seen at once by his horse, pale, without any eagerness in his eyes, as he gallops, carrying the disease and horror of war with him. The most prominent horse was that of the antichrist, and the others were invisible against him.
The entire fundus turned into lava. Destruction is imminent. Contemplating, I thought to myself: Is this some passage from the vision of the two witnesses?
This repetitive series of dreams ended again, concluding that eternal rest had not yet arrived. Tmusha ate me and ate me, and I saw something unusual on the table - a grimoire, which had been collecting dust in the chambers of the unholy one all its life. He was looking at me motionless, with a sinister look, for ten minutes, then he asked me - Do you have any wishes, young man?
And I promptly and critically told him:
It seems that you only target believers, and you are not superficial, because they are also the most vulnerable. You are only strong against humans, and to the Most High you are only an insect that is trampled by humans. You can see the despair in your eyes, because your time is ticking, or rather, past. You exalt yourself too much, so you will be put down, you are the very manifestation of pride.
He just smiled at me and ran away. He is also a coward. With a grimace, I took the black grimoire with the urobor on the back and left the room.
I'm distracted...but at least the writing is still fresh in my memory. Fragments and parts of the soul disappear every day, as if something is eating me from the inside every day. Everything I loved before, I don't love now. A sudden inspiration suddenly came over me, and I'm not mine anymore, I've caged the wild animal in me, but I know it won't last long, somehow he'll manage to get out, he'll probably get out, but my brain left me uninformed. I used that inspiration for insightful purposes:
