I had a lovely dream about loss and being cleansed in the Ganges.
my religion has changed a lot. really, I just want relationship. not a rela...
I
feelbreath on the back of my head. My traps are tense and tight and I
feel hands massaging me, strong hands who have the feel for spots. He
blows on the back of my head again, and presses on the knots. I get
goosebumps that run up and down, pause, and then do it again. And again.
He's blowing and rubbing and is very close to me. "Do you know how much
I love you?" he says, and keeps blowing on my head and pressing the
tight spots. I see a heart combust into flame. Like that: Strong and
fierce and jealous and real without control, without bounds. He presses
himself to me and wraps his arms around my chest and I feel the warm
contact of his body all on mine, surrounding me.
I am loved. It doesn't matter that he's a man, that Jesus cat, just that I receive him and am received as I am.
12.07.2014
9.15.2014
8.12.2014
Believe Me
Danni Bain
12 Aug, 2014
A brilliant Aussie light
12 Aug, 2014
A brilliant Aussie light
Believe
me when I tell you there is nothing more important than happiness in
this life. Go after what is your happiness. Go after it fully and
without looking back or asking others their opinions. Fucking run. And
run as fast as you've ever felt your legs move before. And not because
you may not have tomorrow, for this too may be true, but because you
deserve to be happy. You deserve to have sand at your feet and sunshine
in your hair. You deserve to be in love, to travel the world, to hold
hands with once strangers and to have lots of amazing sex. You deserve
to feel as if the treasures of the universe were all waiting to unleash
their glory onto you. You deserve to feel like Heidi Klum feels when
she’s walking down the runway. You deserve to feel as if you’ve won the
lottery and your bank account if full up of the universal currency that
is love. You deserve that sky writer to write “look up” just for you, so
you can catch just a glimpse of the sun thats sole purpose in rising
was to have you notice it. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be
the 1000th customer, get the green lights all the way to work, to wake
up with the final words of the book you were labouring to finish ink
themselves in your histories and imprint paper with your purpose. You
deserve to forgive yourself that doughnut, and the other one you’ll have
later. You deserve to forgive the driver in front of you for driving
like a dick, you deserve to dream in procrastinations and walk into a
room with your head held high. You deserve to hear the sounds unicorns
make, the ballad of sea horses and the meeting of high heels and timber
floors. You deserve to taste France, winter and the ripest, juiciest
cherries of your whole goddam life. You deserve to smell freedom, Friday
mornings and the perfume your mum used to wear when you were little.
You deserve to see mountain tops, miracles and rain through clear
umbrellas. You deserve to build bands, words and Barbie’s real-life
fucking mansion. You deserve to embrace boys and pugs and girls and
hedges and glasses of wine and mishaps and poetry and wonder and Nick
Cave albums and broken record life mottos that speak to you in silent
repetition, ‘this too shall pass, this too shall pass’. You deserve to
get out of bed and feel your feet less heavy than yesterday, or tomorrow
or that time you tried half an hour ago. You deserve to have support in
the form of friends that dance with you through life and call bullshit
when life crosses you. Cus it will, many times. Over and fucking over.
Until you feel you can’t do it. No amount of sky writers or red wine, or
Heidi Klum sissin’ that walk will make you smile today. But they’ll be
back tomorrow. We’ll be back tomorrow. Here, waiting. Counting on your
existence, your participation in the life to make ours what it is. All
you have to do is put on some fucking runners and run the hell to where
you think your happiness might be hiding. We’ll all be here. Watching
you, cheering you on from the sidelines. You might not find it the first
time, but you might.
8.01.2014
Forest eyes
Hear me. Drift and dream, receive and open your heart.
There can be nothing but life. Only degrees. More and less. Hot and cold.
Rather, we only measure the heatness of a thing - it's either little hot or lots of hot.
Cold isn't a thing, the way death isn't a thing; It's just not much life.
You're never without; you're only a little-in.
5.31.2014
It's Saturday. Again.
I'd like to be wholly me always. Great at home on a Saturday night, fully engrossed in my book or voiceover stuff or legitimately investing in my flatmates. Going out when I go out, engaging because I'm not afraid and know my value - the sort of person you gravitate toward. I don't want that last bit for attention, but because life begets life.
There are so many fearful, petrified, walking dead in the city I don't know what to do with myself, so when I find myself in that hunched and contactless grey, I look to the sky and breathe deep. I feel alive - not just the tingly sensation when oxygen floods my starving parts, but a deeper surety.
I intend in that moment to open up. And immediately I reconnect with the anchor to my soul:
God, the rock, my strength,
is here.
And I go free.
My posture changes, I smile like a mad person
because suddenly this life isn't the thing anymore, can't crush me, because it's stuff that's easy and ever-changing.
The difference between Heaven and Heaven.
...
I have a hard time drawing a distinction between the sound of Jesus and Jesus. They sound the same.
But I know Jesus as Grace, which is directly applicable to every moment, so then that relationship is something I want to harbor and develop. He's not a guy from history, like Alexander the Great, that I'm somehow supposed to reach out to; he's not a ghost I channel or Ouija.
He's like a helmet...hooked into the innermost part of the brain and tied to your eardrums to coordinate balance. It's why 'Jesus lives in your heart' is a thing.
What do you hear.
Grace. Peace. Love.
It's a placement (perspective) and state of mind (perception) that I'm enough where I am and as I stand. I don't need to fake anything, am not too proud to ask for guidance or help, don't need to manipulate to get what I want or need. And no matter what harsh words or crappy circumstances come my way, the thing isn't the thing. All things only affect you as much as you let them.
This doesn't mean you're cold. On the contrary, when you're no longer blown about by the things outside of you, your capactiy for empathy, courage, patience, (and other fruits of the spirit) all increase in ways you could never have imagined.
People, the ones who want to affect you and be affected, will think you're cold or weird, but it's because they're losing control - not getting what they desire, that is, a stimulus to react to.
We all do it. We're just free now to do it less.
I was raised Christian, so that's the language I deal in. However, my perception of Jesus is one I received outside of a church building. It was given to me by people who practice walking the daily God, the moment by moment interaction we have with the life of things, because if God's not the God of the little things, what's he good for? Our days grow mundane without purpose - treading trodden trails (thank you DMB) - but if Love is here, and Grace is to change from who I was a moment ago (childish, dramatic, reactive instead of responsive) to who I want to be (classy, like George Clooney...or someone you know who's measured, even keeled, and who stills your soul), then every day is purposed, no second wasted, everything directing me to what I want to invest in and reap from. In this place is empowerment because you see the absolute PRESENCE of the moment at hand. It's a resource, time, and really the only one we actually have. (And it's a figment - doesn't THAT make you feel small.)
We spend it dealing in other things, games and business and business games and relationship follies and vices we return to again and again, but at the end of the day we only ever do the things we choose to do, and that's our life.
You are free to feel obligation and you are free to submit to it.
You are also free not to.
So here I am on a Saturday night wishing I was out, being popular, being outgoing, making real friends, as if I've never done these things and like the small measure of satisfaction they brought was lasting.
It's like sugar - delicious, mostly empty, a little ruinous. Depresses you. Makes you hate yourself.
Ha!
Again it's all a matter of placement: where do I stand and what am I looking at: my lack? the fact that I want attention and so I'll go out and grab happiness and then be accomplished because I can do things and am capable? That bit of my life would have been the boring, filler chapters where different characters play the same roles until the protagonist sees something he couldn't see until it was time.
But even those chapters have purpose.
...am I worth anything when my phone doesn't blow up.
I question my value ... perpetually. When I realized the value of humour, I had to be the funny guy. When I thought I was ugly as sin I thought I wasn't worth a damn. I can't lie to save my life and the kids who could were coasting through life...It's all delusion. In God, in the existence, we're all on the same plane: rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief. What you walk in sets your pace, how you think determines on what your eyes rest, and if you face the rising sun you'll always have hope.
This is the moment of salvation, so go free.
Everything's changing, even hearts of stone.
There are so many fearful, petrified, walking dead in the city I don't know what to do with myself, so when I find myself in that hunched and contactless grey, I look to the sky and breathe deep. I feel alive - not just the tingly sensation when oxygen floods my starving parts, but a deeper surety.
I intend in that moment to open up. And immediately I reconnect with the anchor to my soul:
God, the rock, my strength,
is here.
And I go free.
My posture changes, I smile like a mad person
because suddenly this life isn't the thing anymore, can't crush me, because it's stuff that's easy and ever-changing.
The difference between Heaven and Heaven.
...
I have a hard time drawing a distinction between the sound of Jesus and Jesus. They sound the same.
But I know Jesus as Grace, which is directly applicable to every moment, so then that relationship is something I want to harbor and develop. He's not a guy from history, like Alexander the Great, that I'm somehow supposed to reach out to; he's not a ghost I channel or Ouija.
He's like a helmet...hooked into the innermost part of the brain and tied to your eardrums to coordinate balance. It's why 'Jesus lives in your heart' is a thing.
What do you hear.
Grace. Peace. Love.
It's a placement (perspective) and state of mind (perception) that I'm enough where I am and as I stand. I don't need to fake anything, am not too proud to ask for guidance or help, don't need to manipulate to get what I want or need. And no matter what harsh words or crappy circumstances come my way, the thing isn't the thing. All things only affect you as much as you let them.
This doesn't mean you're cold. On the contrary, when you're no longer blown about by the things outside of you, your capactiy for empathy, courage, patience, (and other fruits of the spirit) all increase in ways you could never have imagined.
People, the ones who want to affect you and be affected, will think you're cold or weird, but it's because they're losing control - not getting what they desire, that is, a stimulus to react to.
We all do it. We're just free now to do it less.
I was raised Christian, so that's the language I deal in. However, my perception of Jesus is one I received outside of a church building. It was given to me by people who practice walking the daily God, the moment by moment interaction we have with the life of things, because if God's not the God of the little things, what's he good for? Our days grow mundane without purpose - treading trodden trails (thank you DMB) - but if Love is here, and Grace is to change from who I was a moment ago (childish, dramatic, reactive instead of responsive) to who I want to be (classy, like George Clooney...or someone you know who's measured, even keeled, and who stills your soul), then every day is purposed, no second wasted, everything directing me to what I want to invest in and reap from. In this place is empowerment because you see the absolute PRESENCE of the moment at hand. It's a resource, time, and really the only one we actually have. (And it's a figment - doesn't THAT make you feel small.)
We spend it dealing in other things, games and business and business games and relationship follies and vices we return to again and again, but at the end of the day we only ever do the things we choose to do, and that's our life.
You are free to feel obligation and you are free to submit to it.
You are also free not to.
So here I am on a Saturday night wishing I was out, being popular, being outgoing, making real friends, as if I've never done these things and like the small measure of satisfaction they brought was lasting.
It's like sugar - delicious, mostly empty, a little ruinous. Depresses you. Makes you hate yourself.
Ha!
Again it's all a matter of placement: where do I stand and what am I looking at: my lack? the fact that I want attention and so I'll go out and grab happiness and then be accomplished because I can do things and am capable? That bit of my life would have been the boring, filler chapters where different characters play the same roles until the protagonist sees something he couldn't see until it was time.
But even those chapters have purpose.
...am I worth anything when my phone doesn't blow up.
I question my value ... perpetually. When I realized the value of humour, I had to be the funny guy. When I thought I was ugly as sin I thought I wasn't worth a damn. I can't lie to save my life and the kids who could were coasting through life...It's all delusion. In God, in the existence, we're all on the same plane: rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief. What you walk in sets your pace, how you think determines on what your eyes rest, and if you face the rising sun you'll always have hope.
This is the moment of salvation, so go free.
del·i·quesce
deliˈkwes/
verb
( 1. (of organic matter) become liquid, typically during decomposition.
Chemistry
(of a solid) become liquid by absorbing moisture from the air.
1.29.2014
Graahj
I was speaking with a friend recently, one on painkillers from an impromptu root-canal, and we know how that makes for liberating conversation because both parties are drunk: one under influence and the other free to say whatever-the-hell because the other's drunk. I spoke at length about being gay and being in the early stages of a burgeoning relationship in which I've found myself.
I don't do relationships.
I'm good with people and great (?) with my friends (the ones who live near me - sorry all you imaginations from the past...=/) but that's where things end. I've been engaged and I almost died. I was going to write 'it almost killed me' but that takes all the personal responsibility out of my emotions and reactions to them. Both parents are twice divorced and aside from saying 'I'm not my parents' I'm finding myself becoming them both, except gayer.
For a long time I fought being gay. couldn't wouldn't oughtn't need-to mustn't holyhell I-DID-IT-YESSSS oh-SHIT-I-DID-IT-NOOOO and so on. I spent all my time thinking about it and hiding it and fighting it so I was never at peace. Which isn't God. It's not the thing that's the battle: it's holding onto your sword and power in the midst of ghost attacks (ghosts are nothing, btw). And then I stopped thinking about it. And then I was engaged.
I still think it was pushed on me, but that's to avoid the more appropriate and true understanding that I said yes when it was suggested to me. Again avoiding responsibility. Boo. Anyway, this unhappy state of affairs and the sad-sackness into which I descended came with a resurgence of gaiety that frustrated the hell out of me. At the same time I was growing into heights and depths of God: the spiritual loftiness of moving within and without, not being stolen from, hearing from the mouth of God words of peace and walking in them, as well as the depths of agony those glories touch. 'Even there grace can be found.' I came to consider gayness a separate thing from me which was incredibly liberating: it was like a lizard on my shoulder that told me things and I could shut it down with a wave of my hand. Unfortunately, when I was bored and alone any voice suggesting the thought of someone caring for me...touching me...strong hands and arms comforting me and taking away my loneliness...everyone knows how easy it is to revert to habit and jump into familiar courses. So 'it's not me, it's this lizard' was my go-to. A pet I didn't ask for.
Then it became like a badge pinned to my lapel. Not a point of pride (bad pun), absolutely not, buckets of shame in fact, but attached and worn all the time. I remember thinking it was just something about me, like my favorite colour. I think girls are pretty and appreciate their grace and some spark in them which men don't have, but my body is not attracted to them. If they're quiet and cute they're manipulative; If they want to talk they're needy; If they come onto me they're slutty.
It certainly sounds like I'm protecting myself from something, eh?
I speak like a misogynist sometimes because I think it's fun and ridiculous, but ... you know, but...
ANYWAY. Talking to this friend, I started going on about how I realized I didn't want to be married because of all the mindsets I had about relationship: man the home-builder, saviour of the family; wife the worker with ideas better than mine, emasculating me and growing bored and now I've driven this beautiful flower to it's own destruction...I give myself a lot of credit. Even dating, which is supposed to lead to the solidarity of marriage (see previous fun sentence), which is the goal, requires of me flowers, constant attention, careful pacing, both even-measure as well as wonderful spontaneity. I can't be all that, I'm not any of it I'm (sometimes) sure. I don't trust myself for anything. I doubt my skills, timing, ability, what God made me. So I doubt God, and run from both His face (peace, light) and simply walking everyday. I take respite in my head and turn away from the physical manifestation of what I most require: a soft, receiving heart.
Gay is easy. Guys are easy to win, and anyone who doesn't want me I don't want anyway. Girls are easy because I'm not worried about them - I usually define the relationship after I see the second downward glance and put-hair-back-in-place.
I hate gay because it's wrong - all mis-jive and vases acting like broomsticks, or vice-versa, or whatever: things trying to be something they're not. This is my perception and how my body, sometimes my heart, often my spirit, and my mind react to it. Love breaks down the judgmental barriers of wrong and right, and I'm learning to love myself. That's the second level of my judgement - the first being I guess I think God sucks and is always trying to shove a giant cock at me and I'm supposed to love it because I don't like lady parts and so there's no alternative. Abstinence. Asexuality.
Because that makes so much sense.
I think I'm broken, and I think a strong man, my image of God, will hold and comfort me and fix things. Me. Fill my dearth.
In my perception I cannot be that strong man for any woman because I'm broken. So I've renounced them because they only remind me of what I believe I'm not.
Strangely, gays act like women because the natural order to get a man is to be tempting and ribbonesque and lispy. But gays go for men, not guys who act like women... Well, it's all fucked from the beginning, seriously, so it's no wonder it doesn't make sense. Or just not to me.
So I come back to God: having fallen so far and and am now such a goddamn sinner despite knowing the truth, the way that begets the way and perpetuates life...I'm here. God's here. Freedom is here to do this or go after that or bow my head or spend my time on these things. I think too much. I don't know what awakened love feels like, particularly the romantic one...ones...but I do know my love for people is tremendous even when it wavers. Which tells me something about God. Love: affection, well-being, well-wishing, help, comfort, sympathy, (as I age) empathy, grace&objectivity (the same), support, strength, enouragement, and (above all?) truth. No faking no lies no tempering or beating around the bush. It's speaking as is on your heart: learning to speak with and likewise TO RECEIVE in all those same facets and aspects because we practice: at every given moment we're shifting into and out of some of them and so we preactice. We LEARN to hear this truth with grace if we're not hearing it with our ears; we LEARN to listen with the heart. This is how Jed and I have grown closer: we stopped getting caught on words and started listening for the hope. We're struggling and making our way even though we know of better ways, but we settle, each differently, on the peace of where we are and what we're doing, expecting more and changing line upon line.
Ugh.
We settle. I think I meant 'rest', but ...ugh. This is the call right here. It's a man who answers it. The impetus to run into the light and the danger, not fearing, but expecting a fight for a worthy cause. God is worth fighting for. Worth fighting into. 'The industry' is not. Happiness is not - but satisfaction is, because in satisfaction lies things immoveable, from which peace and steady Joy emanate. Happiness is superficial - necessary but only a sign, indicative of the soul's at-restness.
Church as I see it is not a fight. It's spoon feeding and conceptualizing and for beginners - no judgement.
I'm still loathe to say that because of how I think Jed hears it, but I can't do it. It's like sitting in on a Spanish 1 class for me: yes, I can learn things, no, it's not appropriate - there's a mismatch, a discordance - I'm trying to put the resources God gave me back into him instead of making them increase. Talents risked, not buried - though there's a season for everything.
Taking your faith for a walk is ... the point. You can keep it at home as long as you like and it might be fine, but for it to run and grow in the sunshine and air, to get healthy&hale, hearty&robust is to for you to know it's alive! The energy that comes with that is incredibly invigorating, too, expanding your worldview, capacity for love because your blood is flowing into and out of and with people and your location but it's not attached to anything and you no longer fear because you don't have things to lose.
All good talk. They'll know me by my works.
Ugh, forget them: I'll know my faith by my works.
I don't do relationships.
I'm good with people and great (?) with my friends (the ones who live near me - sorry all you imaginations from the past...=/) but that's where things end. I've been engaged and I almost died. I was going to write 'it almost killed me' but that takes all the personal responsibility out of my emotions and reactions to them. Both parents are twice divorced and aside from saying 'I'm not my parents' I'm finding myself becoming them both, except gayer.
For a long time I fought being gay. couldn't wouldn't oughtn't need-to mustn't holyhell I-DID-IT-YESSSS oh-SHIT-I-DID-IT-NOOOO and so on. I spent all my time thinking about it and hiding it and fighting it so I was never at peace. Which isn't God. It's not the thing that's the battle: it's holding onto your sword and power in the midst of ghost attacks (ghosts are nothing, btw). And then I stopped thinking about it. And then I was engaged.
I still think it was pushed on me, but that's to avoid the more appropriate and true understanding that I said yes when it was suggested to me. Again avoiding responsibility. Boo. Anyway, this unhappy state of affairs and the sad-sackness into which I descended came with a resurgence of gaiety that frustrated the hell out of me. At the same time I was growing into heights and depths of God: the spiritual loftiness of moving within and without, not being stolen from, hearing from the mouth of God words of peace and walking in them, as well as the depths of agony those glories touch. 'Even there grace can be found.' I came to consider gayness a separate thing from me which was incredibly liberating: it was like a lizard on my shoulder that told me things and I could shut it down with a wave of my hand. Unfortunately, when I was bored and alone any voice suggesting the thought of someone caring for me...touching me...strong hands and arms comforting me and taking away my loneliness...everyone knows how easy it is to revert to habit and jump into familiar courses. So 'it's not me, it's this lizard' was my go-to. A pet I didn't ask for.
Then it became like a badge pinned to my lapel. Not a point of pride (bad pun), absolutely not, buckets of shame in fact, but attached and worn all the time. I remember thinking it was just something about me, like my favorite colour. I think girls are pretty and appreciate their grace and some spark in them which men don't have, but my body is not attracted to them. If they're quiet and cute they're manipulative; If they want to talk they're needy; If they come onto me they're slutty.
It certainly sounds like I'm protecting myself from something, eh?
I speak like a misogynist sometimes because I think it's fun and ridiculous, but ... you know, but...
ANYWAY. Talking to this friend, I started going on about how I realized I didn't want to be married because of all the mindsets I had about relationship: man the home-builder, saviour of the family; wife the worker with ideas better than mine, emasculating me and growing bored and now I've driven this beautiful flower to it's own destruction...I give myself a lot of credit. Even dating, which is supposed to lead to the solidarity of marriage (see previous fun sentence), which is the goal, requires of me flowers, constant attention, careful pacing, both even-measure as well as wonderful spontaneity. I can't be all that, I'm not any of it I'm (sometimes) sure. I don't trust myself for anything. I doubt my skills, timing, ability, what God made me. So I doubt God, and run from both His face (peace, light) and simply walking everyday. I take respite in my head and turn away from the physical manifestation of what I most require: a soft, receiving heart.
Gay is easy. Guys are easy to win, and anyone who doesn't want me I don't want anyway. Girls are easy because I'm not worried about them - I usually define the relationship after I see the second downward glance and put-hair-back-in-place.
I hate gay because it's wrong - all mis-jive and vases acting like broomsticks, or vice-versa, or whatever: things trying to be something they're not. This is my perception and how my body, sometimes my heart, often my spirit, and my mind react to it. Love breaks down the judgmental barriers of wrong and right, and I'm learning to love myself. That's the second level of my judgement - the first being I guess I think God sucks and is always trying to shove a giant cock at me and I'm supposed to love it because I don't like lady parts and so there's no alternative. Abstinence. Asexuality.
Because that makes so much sense.
I think I'm broken, and I think a strong man, my image of God, will hold and comfort me and fix things. Me. Fill my dearth.
In my perception I cannot be that strong man for any woman because I'm broken. So I've renounced them because they only remind me of what I believe I'm not.
Strangely, gays act like women because the natural order to get a man is to be tempting and ribbonesque and lispy. But gays go for men, not guys who act like women... Well, it's all fucked from the beginning, seriously, so it's no wonder it doesn't make sense. Or just not to me.
So I come back to God: having fallen so far and and am now such a goddamn sinner despite knowing the truth, the way that begets the way and perpetuates life...I'm here. God's here. Freedom is here to do this or go after that or bow my head or spend my time on these things. I think too much. I don't know what awakened love feels like, particularly the romantic one...ones...but I do know my love for people is tremendous even when it wavers. Which tells me something about God. Love: affection, well-being, well-wishing, help, comfort, sympathy, (as I age) empathy, grace&objectivity (the same), support, strength, enouragement, and (above all?) truth. No faking no lies no tempering or beating around the bush. It's speaking as is on your heart: learning to speak with and likewise TO RECEIVE in all those same facets and aspects because we practice: at every given moment we're shifting into and out of some of them and so we preactice. We LEARN to hear this truth with grace if we're not hearing it with our ears; we LEARN to listen with the heart. This is how Jed and I have grown closer: we stopped getting caught on words and started listening for the hope. We're struggling and making our way even though we know of better ways, but we settle, each differently, on the peace of where we are and what we're doing, expecting more and changing line upon line.
Ugh.
We settle. I think I meant 'rest', but ...ugh. This is the call right here. It's a man who answers it. The impetus to run into the light and the danger, not fearing, but expecting a fight for a worthy cause. God is worth fighting for. Worth fighting into. 'The industry' is not. Happiness is not - but satisfaction is, because in satisfaction lies things immoveable, from which peace and steady Joy emanate. Happiness is superficial - necessary but only a sign, indicative of the soul's at-restness.
Church as I see it is not a fight. It's spoon feeding and conceptualizing and for beginners - no judgement.
I'm still loathe to say that because of how I think Jed hears it, but I can't do it. It's like sitting in on a Spanish 1 class for me: yes, I can learn things, no, it's not appropriate - there's a mismatch, a discordance - I'm trying to put the resources God gave me back into him instead of making them increase. Talents risked, not buried - though there's a season for everything.
Taking your faith for a walk is ... the point. You can keep it at home as long as you like and it might be fine, but for it to run and grow in the sunshine and air, to get healthy&hale, hearty&robust is to for you to know it's alive! The energy that comes with that is incredibly invigorating, too, expanding your worldview, capacity for love because your blood is flowing into and out of and with people and your location but it's not attached to anything and you no longer fear because you don't have things to lose.
All good talk. They'll know me by my works.
Ugh, forget them: I'll know my faith by my works.
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