Till We Have Faces

I am Orgual.

I hate the Ungit flowing through me and hate the gods that steal my selfish love.

I have my sick Bardia fantasies that betray Ansit and feed my rotting soul.

I blindly nod my head at Fox's teaching while knowing (I've seen proof through the clouds) the gods exist, however unjust they make themselves appear. I believe that makes me a hypocrite... practicing the Birthing while thinking in Fox's greek way.

I write my foolish book of complaints against the gods, all the while not knowing what I'm really saying.

Pretty much, C.S. Lewis is a genius. Here's an excerpt you must read:

'A glib saying. When the time comes to you at which you will be forced at last to utter the speech which has lain at the center of your soul for years, which you have, all that time, idiot-like, been saying over and over, you'll not talk about joy of words. I saw well why the gods do not speak to us openly, nor let us answer. Till that word can be can be dug out of us, why should they hear the babble that we think we mean? How can they meet us face to face till we have faces?'

God, my mind is exploding with the amazingness... borrow/buy/steal this book!