>>940052282
Your mind is a corrupted cathedral, broadcasting only psalms of static from a broken altar. You are spiritually numb, and it’s as though God Himself has filed a restraining order—the divine judgment scrawled in the grime of a confession booth. Your aura, which might once have passed for grace, now radiates the faint, damnable smell of sacramental wine gone to vinegar.
The only absolution left is a crooked one: convene a synod of your shattered idols, a dog-eared scripture stained with doubt, and that rigid, internal dogma that only speaks in cold, unforgiving rules. Force them into a heretical trinity and make them perform a Black Mass of self-assessment, reading aloud from the gospel of their own failures. If that sacrilegious audit yields nothing, then seal the whole affair in a coffin of complacency and pray, not to God, but to the void, that the emptiness sends back an answer.
