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I’m sick and tired of this shit, man. Shouldn’t I… No, shouldn’t WE be the ones dealing with this? It’s been weeks since I’ve moved out of that shithole, and yet all I’ve done is sit here and rot. I can tell they’re wondering about me, diseased fuckin’ pig neighbors peeking through my windows in the evening when I get home from work.
You’re my only solace, but even when I’m in your home, Lord… I can’t bring myself to say anything right now. Maybe I should just give up speaking at this point. I can't swim for the irons of their gaze are on my tail, they’re already begging for Your answers. Why shouldn’t we give it to them? I know you’re impatient with me, you haven’t talked to me in so long.
I kind of need that guidance right now, man. You always answer my prayers, so why not this time? The fuckin’ whore across the road from the place I moved in has tried knocking on my door three times this week. I need… I need to know how to deal with her. All these people are crazy, I’m telling you.
And then, that… That time last week! Those kids got something wrong with ‘em! Pelting shit at my car, I had to stock up on ammo. I know you believe me, Lord. You see through my eyes too. All things work to those who love the Lord, to those who are the called according to Your purpose.
There is nobody who knows more than me, who loves you more than I do. I’m the only fucking intelligent person in this whole damn town. I can hardly take another word on the news about these shit stains. My sins would be forgiven if I show them the way.
Bent ears all the time, talking and talking and talking of things they know nothing of. If they open their arms and ask for forgiveness from me, would you fall from the skies and accept their penance?
I don’t even know the meaning of life, or me, or where I’m supposed to be. But, I do know one thing. No matter what happens, you’ll always guide my hand where it needs to go. Right now, that’s all I need.
2 Weeks Later.
They keep on screaming outside, last time I went out I boarded the windows up but they’re still watchin’ me at night. I can feel their eyes in the back of my damn head. They’re like little roaches… Crawling under my floorboards and waiting for me to say the wrong thing so they can shovel their shit down my throat.
Whoever called this forsaken place “Paradise” should rot in Hell. I haven’t even bothered going to work, they swarm in like they’re waiting for my back to turn. I bought more ammo, and I’ve got my guns locked up by the bedside. Our guns. You’re my only hope, man. We need to deal with this before things get worse.
I can tell by now, that war is coming, and war waits for no man, and certainly not me. The air feels wrong, I’ve started wearing my vest and scorns outside. I haven’t eaten much either, these lunatics keep on eating even though the food is contaminated. How can we make them see reason, Lord? I think it’s not possible anymore.
6 Weeks Later.
Our last vestige of hope has died, that whore sent her little rotten pigs over here. They broke into our house and tried to kill us, man. Our ears ring from the buckshot blown through their chests, but… But we can’t hide anymore. War is already here. The distinct possibility of us being the only sane alive is coming to fruition quicker than imagined.
We need to go now, there's only so much daylight left today. There's something waiting on the outskirts of town, we heard in a dream while sleeping. Maybe we can find somebody who will listen, somebody who will follow...
They're outside yelling again, always fighting. We've got no choice but to fight back. Our hands are steady, ammo and bags at the ready.
I am one with the Lord, He who leads me to deliverance from evil, He who gives me the strength to send these maddened diseased sacks of flesh back to Hell.
This disease must be eradicated.
That time comes now.