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November 13, 2020
Coming down from a height we could never perceive as being where we really are, but an illusion to entrap our wits, being omnipotent, telling us we are mud, we are worms, we are that which should be stamped out but for the graces of this or that coming from the vents of sacred scrolls beating us as they love us, binding us, even as they free us, or so they claim. We are bound dolls in a firestorm of dogma that has no currency but for the chiming of the avatars. We must bow to them. Or kill them.