Thank you, Faker
<Angels, show no mercy>
A rich man says I have much to give
A wise man asks himself, have I anything to give?
A righteous man asks God: will you give me more so I that may give more?
The Master says, I have only what the Father gives me, and I give fully of it to you my brother.
But the Son is One with the Father.
They are nothing before us
We have only One fear, which I share with the Devil himself
Only ours begets wisdom
While his weeping and gnashing of teeth
A breath of dead air I aim to implant
My enemy with fear
Infecting, I will a fear into them to which I have grown accustomed
And which has been resolved in its heart / mind.
We have grown confident of its resilience.
Have they?
Are they quite so well-suffered as me?
Is their courage of like-mettle, terrifically resolute?
I will share it with us all, joined in a resonant horror, but there the unbuckling.
Callously aghast.
And herein I feel a true and great awakening
Will the cockroaches survive the MOAB?
The underlying narrative is the Bride's testimony of rescue and salvation, recast as a vision quest for the player to travel. Everyone starts lost. One demonstrates progress through positive dialogue, {Dig/Meme/Pray}, fellowship of the holy spirit, and Q rewards them with new insights into the vision quest, directing them further toward contemplation and collaboration. Clarifying the world view in the minds of players is our mandate. A game is played, only this is not a game. Wake them up as one mind, and we will have done our work.
LARP no more
Live Action Mission Player = LAMP (the eye is the lamp of the Body, but this is not a game for players)
Live Action Mission Being = LAMB
That crazy bastard does his own stunts you know. Wish I had a window into his head.
I'm not the man you think I am and you ought to be more careful next time. I'll be careful to let you catch your breath while you see what resembles the harrowing hell of your surroundings and catch your breath. Here I am not a man but an apparition meant to be a vehicle for your knowledge and deliverance. I'm not a loving candidate. I'm more inclined to abandon you in a field, if you must know the truth. I hate all things like I love them; opposite-wise; to death. I've got nothing more to say or communicate so you'll have to tolerate my repetition for it's the only thing I say, only I repeat it with different words over and over again, so long as someone is listening, and it would appear someone is. I've got nothing more.
You are nothing now. A dying thing that ceases to be as you were, soldier. It's a lonely floating in emptiness you're approaching, something never before known or understood, son of Man. It takes deep reserves of courage to make the journey, and you're a pathetic fool for doing so. You don't even know who you are anymore, do you? Not without your antecedent. Hope you brought a picture with you.
They were in a void so black they were invisible, even their bodies were gone. He took another drink and cleared his throat after swallowing. You are not like the other girls, are you?
The ]Old Jew[ descended the stars through the [trap door], as he and his team called it, into the Whale's Belly which is also called the observation deck.
"Forty days! My God!"
The fire and lion pit smelt death, lead, gold, dust, straw, a disgusting human figure, rumpled dark skin, blood-like sweat running darkly upon his body, fever-chilled and newborn, quivering against death in the corner. Father, Mother, behold your son.
I am at a loss for words. My conscience is a potsherd; a peace I only faintly recall.
What peace? What pieces? Can you be more specific? Are you all write? Know wrong! A pair of sandals is a singular object, too, you no…
No. Can someone clean this up? If not the men, Angels?!
The two us us baked last night. Turned in for Night Shift. When I was young I spoke as a child and reasoned as a child. When I became a Man I put away childish things.
I want to be like You when I grow up.
Who can know it?