And I Love Being Proven Roasted Wrong

Catholics & Protestants Love Burying Me Alive


There was this little girl one time; perhaps she was there in other times but she cannot remember it. What she can remember is being Mary Magdalene; being the Canaanite Woman; being Hagar and Zipporah; being Apostle Paul and being in the thoughts of Jesus Christ dying on the cross; Jesus reading Isaiah 61 in the Temple; Jesus sitting in the Temple at the age of 12 while his parents were crushed under the weight of Him being him.

Yes she can remember these snapshots as she turns and looks at herself in horror. How can these things be? How can she love them all, even the wicked, and survive? That is the question the little girl asked for ten years from September 25, 2008 until precisely September 25, 2018. It is a ten, you see, and that is indeed a wilderness. But what they forgot; what she always knew; was that she was with Emmanuel and her favorite color is blue. 

I knew a little girl one time who found her power. I don’t know where she is now, but I gave her a flower. And when she comes back to me in so many body forms, how do I tell her that her life is a lackluster storm?

They laughed at her; they showed no respect. So she learned to change for them as a mother so that they would accept. What must they accept to be free? Jesus isn’t white; he is non-racist me. 

But Beaty is white; so they keep at their games. They never believe the fable Tara remains. And so Cara has decided allegory is best; to keep hell frozen and heaven blessed. 

See, Satan and I agree. We both need to live. we must call back that which humanity keeps to give. We shake our heads NO, he and I. We know that that NO is what helps me survive.

And while ex-patriots prayed for him, Satan cried for me. Christians are foolish whims upon the Prince of Peace. Prince of World is tired of this game; as am I. So we chill on Twitter loving them and watching them die. 

Tara knows what humanity forgot: Satan loves Cara and hid it for Lot.


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