I long for a god, even if it's of my own creation.
It's always of our own creation; god creates us and in turn we create god. There is fluidity in infinity; hell is red-light-green-light... But then again, red lights might be the best reminder to look around, to escape the fantasies we memorize. Here we are. At this light. We aren't moving, finally finally.
So I want to offer a few prayers to myself. I want to treat my feet to a scrubbing. I want to partake of my wine to remind myself that I am nothing if not begging for mercies. I want to say thank you thank you thank you.
We can be our own saving grace. We can place our hands upon our head and bless. You have temples by your eyes, you have hallowed ground beneath your soles. Wake up to the dream that you are.