Bless Me
I used to think libido was a car. One little misconception can change the way we understand things. It can change our perceptions, our preferences, and sometimes it can change the way we live completely.
I used to think libido was a car. One little misconception can change the way we understand things. It can change our perceptions, our preferences, and sometimes it can change the way we live completely.
As autumn fell, he started nudging me, gently striving to get my attention. Geneva, he whispered, you’ve been running in circles for months. We haven’t talked in a while.
Like the Bible story after which it is named, Bruegel’s painting seems to critique humanity’s thirst for power. The tower is unfinished and crumbling.
I could tell you my opinion about the intersection of homosexuality, Calvin, and the church. But I appreciate the simplicity and genuine goodwill of these stories, so I’ll let them speak unaccompanied.
The undead are not frightening; they amble around, moaning for brainsssss, while anyone with half a leg can just jump out of the way.
On the way out of the house, the thief’s bleeding hand had grabbed my Bible from where it lay on the floor. There’s a story inside it, one that I hope they read.
I am learning to see God as my portion, but will I ever understand a life without air? The Lord’s favor is not an idyllic future, but a constant and inevitable, ineffable reality.
It’s for this reason, I think, that horror movies are so difficult to judge. How do you rate something that’s highest purpose is to make you double-check your closet at night, or think about leaving a light on?
The world became bigger. I keep asking, where do I build my life? Around a job or career? Passions, in general? A girl? How much do you sacrifice for someone, and at what point?