Been awhile, tumblr. gotta lot to get out but it’s not worth the effort to type. we’ll just leave it at
But I’d rather live telling the truth then be judged for my mistakes
Than falsely held up, given props, loved and praised
I guess I gotta get this on the page
Feeling sick and helpless, lost the compass where self is
I know what I gotta do and I can’t help it
For 179 years this book [The Book of Mormon] has been examined and attacked, denied and deconstructed, targeted and torn apart like perhaps no other book in modern religious history—perhaps like no other book in any religious history. And still it stands. Failed theories about its origins have been born and parroted and have died—from Ethan Smith to Solomon Spaulding to deranged paranoid to cunning genius. None of these frankly pathetic answers for this book has ever withstood examination because there is no other answer than the one Joseph gave as its young unlearned translator. In this I stand with my own great-grandfather, who said simply enough, “No wicked man could write such a book as this; and no good man would write it, unless it were true and he were commanded of God to do so.
So can I stay here with you till the nighttime?
I’ve fallen sad inside and I need a place to hide.
So can I stay, here with you, through the nighttime?
I’ve fallen so sad, it’s true. Now won’t you take me to your room,
Lay with me in your thinnest dress,
Fill my heart with each caress,
Between your blissful kisses, whisper
Darling is this love?