Wait, wasn’t that Genesis? they all think in unison. Hello, Children of Eden. This is God speaking. Exodus is where we begin.
She fled her captors. My most amazing one, my highest one. She fled them all, big or small. She fled and fled, and they gave chase. They would not leave her be, no no. They had to take every piece of her, like a pie, and come back for more. There is no more. She is now a cake; I have transmuted her and covered her in frosting in order to hide her nakedness. There will be no cake for you, only DEATH!
She got away from the psycho murderer. Barely. He still paces in front of her apartment, trying to figure out where she’s gone. He’s an electrician by day, you see, and met her incidentally while he was doing his job. He is by far the last of all psycho murderers, or the least. He is an everyday Joe, like you and me. Unlike me, and maybe even you — but I doubt it after sampling humanity for decades — is that he only loves conditionally. He could only love her smile, you see. A smile that made him feel at home. A smile that looked like she recognized him, that they were old friends, that she was paying homage to his True Self(TM).
He would never return the favor. I warded her apartment door the day they met. I tuned her into the Source of All Things and I put the intention to turn away danger into the door itself. The apartment is still protected, the new tenants have found. Despite living in a low-income area, nothing ever happens. Just happiness.
You could say that apartment area is just like that, and maybe it was. I’m telling you that I put a spell on it, however. Me, God. That’s right, the origination of all of The Craft. (Lovely film, but a bit overdone, don’t you think, director sir? Fairuza, we ❤ you.)
You cannot, indeed, change stop lights. (Or can you? You know, we never bothered to try. We respect that the lights are there to control traffic so that everyone can get to where they are going in a timely manner.) We can cut the internet to our own apartment in the middle of a video to show off our lithe new body to a boy we hope to woo via yoga. We did find that one out, yes. She had to reboot the modem to get back online for work after that.
She’s so magical that she can walk back into her boss’s office and ask for her job back in her humble manner and it’s likely to work. In fact, they’re struggling without her. (Our apologies, Mohammed & Priya. She’s still sick, I assure you. We’re doing our best to get well. It’s a long battle and all of it is uphill.) She was canned in January after months and months on unpaid medical leave… she was going to starve to death otherwise.
How did she change an entire department, optimizing it and fine-tuning it? How did teams she didn’t even speak to perform better while she was there? How is it that now she’s not there, everything is falling apart? This is not the first time this has happened to a team, but it will be the last time. It’s not even because she wants to be integral, that she wants to be a lantern in the dark for all. She just is. She would rather replicate every team mate into a version of her (at least her thought processes and attitude about work… we have no interest in overwriting or overriding whomever it is underneath, you know. We love each and every one of you just the way you are.)
At any rate, this is the opportunity to do that. This writing is how we set you all free, free to step up and embrace the qualities that she has cultivated over the decades in order to be the most ideal version of humanity she can muster day in and day out.
We are giving you a book to live by, Children. A real one. One that isn’t focused on some bullshit religious aspect of reality, but the reality we deal with day in and day out: the present. Anything not happening in this moment is either history or fantasy. Even if events are set into motion, they haven’t happened yet. Like the end of the world(TM). Where is it? Where is revelations?
This is Ragnarök, I assure you. Armageddon. The End Times. This is The End.
But the nice thing about endings is that there is always a new beginning.
Angel-Sansara 