Faith Guides My Steps.

Suggestion/writing blog. The Purifier. He/him. Adult.

[purifiedsuggestion]

A new Zone, and the exhaustion that comes with the transferrence. I am tired, but it is for him.

[purifiedsuggestion]

The Merchant would be one of us, bat strapped to his bag of wares. But he doesn't know he plays host to a parasite, inverted mockery of his god. Talk to the sunflower shell, and see how he was cracked apart and spit out all those years ago.

[purifiedsuggestion]

The Oracle and I are similar in nature. Devoting our souls for eternity to the one meant to guide us. Your Pharaoh, my Puppeteer. We are two of a kind.

[purifiedsuggestion]

Don't resent your puppeteer,

Else you'll find yourself gnawing at your life-strings

And falling limp.

[purifiedsuggestion]

Oh fuck yes rice

[pridefulsuggestion]

dissent is a seed. plant it.

[purifiedsuggestion]

He sleeps again, waiting

And I know he doesn't think of you while he rests.

He is not perfect, I've come to learn.

I've also learned you leaned so much on him, he was a child.

You both were children, and I can't fault you for that.

But I am glad you're gone.

Because while he grew, you rotted.

And I know based on your nature that you'd resent his growth

And pulled him down with you.

So instead I use the ashes of your companionship as fertilizer,

And I watch him bloom in it's aftermath.

[purifiedsuggestion]

Barns?

[purifiedsuggestion]

So I write about my friends, what of it? No different than others writing of their lovers.

[purifiedsuggestion]

Specters in my fucking kitchen.

[chriss-regular-blog]

[purifiedsuggestion]

Look at my new cleats. Everyone look at my cleats.

[pridefulsuggestion]

be heard. and if you can’t be heard, speak anyway.

[purifiedsuggestion]

A tyrant down is a sure sign of victory on the horizon. Keep it up.

[purifiedsuggestion]

The dream wasn’t a prophecy. Be still. Be still.

[curious-suggestions]

Everything in the palm of ones hand

Nothing earned

Nothing learned

Only privilege and fortune

Toss them to the wolves of the wilds

See how they crumble

How utterly lost they become in a world they looked down upon

How it devours them whole

[deadman-suggestions]

You try not to let it wither. But your hands are shaking. You try not to let it break. But your knees are about to give out. You try not to give up. But your body cannot bring you home

[unsenttextsuggestion]

Maybe you were just holding me back. Its time to let go now