mostlyoddness

5:54pm: The ravenous angels devour my heart.

5:50pm: I am the god of the broken-hearted.

9:20am: Mercy-Angels nibble at the excretions of my human-distanced heart.

8:44pm: So now I'll send along some pennies to wake the hundred-thousand souls in Hell.

8:41pm: Once I thought as you that God has mercy in Him, but He must continue His Creatings at our expense. How perfect will the planet be made with so much flesh and blood.

8:38pm: Blessed be the Secret Name of the God Who slaughters His children.

8:37pm: Yahweh, the many times I've murdered You in dreams.

8:36pm: God is in His Heaven mad with loathing for His Creation.

8:35pm: Blessed be the wrath of Yahweh.

8:35pm: Blessed be the angels of My Lord.

8:34pm: And the waves that swallow us up are the waves that flow from Yahweh's cups of anger.

This is the God I despise: The God of punishment.

This is the God I would extinguish: The God of promiscuous wrath.

This is the God whose blood I curse with dark disenchantments and outrages against His Rule.

This is the God of rot.

This is the God of meaningless death.

8:34pm: I hate all the angels not coming to our aid.

8:29pm: The decay that now approaches.

8:28pm: The decay that now approaches will generate the angels of the epic death.

8:28pm: The decay that now approaches will wash upon us all as waves of anguish.

8:24pm: The angels that were in the earth are nothing now but vomit.

6:06pm: Here then the words that fail against the force that carves the earth.

6:57pm: I abandon every angel.

5:34pm: This is the place that is made for the angels.

5:31pm: No More Angels
No angels of darkness or of light or of language. No more angels of grace. No angels of death or life or heavenly bodies. No household angels to assist in the kitchen. No guardian angels to save the babies. No more. No more. No more.

7:02pm: Do not speak of angels, please.

7:01pm: Once was an angel. It is no longer so.

6:59pm: Please do not think of angels.

2:42pm: Word become wall become wallow and the wordless world would so engulf one made of language.

2:22pm: There are the voices that approach long after their own echoes have faded.