You know, I had various theories about the people I met, in my visions. At first, I did not try to explain their presence in my mind’s eye, cartoonish mostly, and they said things to me. Some years later, I was convinced that it all was merely psychosis; merely hallucinations; merely a long, strange trip. When I became a devout Christian, I had the theory that the Lord and the angels were “real”, but the people were just creations by them. Or now, were all of them just the people one meets in dreams? Finally ending as that these were the actual people I thought I was meeting, seen in the afterlife, whenever they reached it, tie having a different meaning that the “now” I normally experienced. The mind may stretch without tearing. Or like muscle, grow stronger anew when it does.

Now to think of from where I came, how down in the pit I had descended. That I still have some difficulty when someone describes me or what I’ve done as “good”, or “excellent”. Where I was, all there was was failure. Whatever drink I carried was bound to spill, whatever valuable thing I handled was most likely that I was to drop it. The Lord said to me, “Work is magic.” And I found how true that proposition was. For I came from shame, which I deserved, but out of the pit I did climb, praise the Lord. And I saw in just the normal functioning of things that how wonderful it was that they did not fail. It was: it was magic. Work is magic. Hopefully you’ll see what I mean, without having to pay as high a cost as I did.

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The Great Blasphemy