• Toma


Updated: Dec 31, 2021

Everything seemed different after I finished writing. It was like my mind couldn’t or wouldn’t accept the reality of what I was shown. It was all too unbelievable and yet I knew that it was going to happen.

I think the idea of my having to experience the inevitable with the rest of humanity was causing me to feel a little depressed. The whole thing was so overwhelming that I wrestled with just staying in bed for the rest of my life. I wouldn’t eat or drink anything and eventually at least the venomous one would starve.

“If you did that, how would you ever go home? That would be an unforgivable act right?”

The darkness came alive with laughter as he taunted me with his question. I believed he was right, which explains both of our continued presence among the living.

As I listened to his demonic cackling, I thought about a response that might shut him up, but it was too early to go back and forth with the thorn in my flesh. Instead I decided to get up and get ready for the day.

“Who told you that you were a prophet?”

I walked into the kitchen thinking that I understood exactly how to handle my enemy. I would simply ignore him. I would make myself some coffee, reheat left overs from the night before and act like he didn’t exist. Those we’re my truest intentions but a simple question forced me back into battle with the fallen one.

“I see that you’ve grown tired of our struggling with one another, which I can understand. I just wish you could see that I’m trying to help you. You live in a make believe world of gods and devils. A world that has to include good vs evil for you to feel important. I’m simply trying to bring you out of this psychosis that you’re suffering.”

The steam from the coffee helped me to remain present in the moment. As I sighed slowly, I closed my eyes and remembered that a prophet is without honor in his own home.

“But you see, thats the problem with this whole thing. Who told you that you were a prophet?”

The question floored me, just as my advisory intended for it to do. I tried to take a couple of drinks of my coffee to pretend like I wasn’t phased by the question but it was clear that I had been shaken. His silence was his crown and we both knew that I was at the edge of defeat.

The whole experience left me feeling sick. My stomach began to turn more and more, and I couldn’t eat or drink, all I could do was consider the question. I believed that I had been chosen by The Most High, and even had dreams that came true. Still, who told me that I was in fact a prophet?

“It’s too late to pretend like you didn’t do it. We saw you turn the lights on.”

I decided to take a shower, get dressed and head out to work. My day was going to be long, and I knew I would spend most of it tired, but at least I would escape the feeling of impending doom that filled my house.

Whenever I thought about him it just caused severe anxiety and I was sickened by the feeling of it. Driving around the city and making deliveries would at least keep my mind occupied so I could exist without fear for a moment or two, and that’s exactly what happened. I drove and drifted in thought until I completely forgot about him.

After a few hours I stopped at a local park to stretch my legs a little. I was still really hungry and tired, but at least I was doing something progressive and not worrying about things that caused me to feel fear.

That‘s when it hit me. I could still hear him in the distance. It was like he had been talking the whole time. I had just blocked him out somehow and now he was breaking through.

“It’s too late to pretend like you didn’t do It. We saw you turn the lights on.”

And I knew exactly what he meant.

#thebeguileonteachings #thebeguileontext #thecreatorisstillspeaking


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