I Am Deeply Discouraged By Catholic Bishops

We Have To Become Saints. We Have To Become Like Christ. Anything Less Is Simply Not Enough.

I Will Write Things, He Was Thinking. I Will Write Something Meaningful And Wonderful Someday. I Can Do That. And I'll Dedicate It To You Because You're The First Person Who Ever Made Me Think I Could.

From My Stone Pillow I Have Dreamed Dreams Of The Mortal World Above. I Have Heard Its Voices, Its New Music, As Lullabies As I Lie In My Grave. I Have Envisioned Its Fantastical Discoveries. I Have Known Its Courage In The Timeless Sanctum Of My Thoughts. And Though It Shuts Me Out With Its Dazzling Forms, I Long For One With The Strength To Roam It Fearlessly, To Ride The Devil's Road Through Its Heart.

But I Still Did Not Realize How Mad She Was, And How Accustomed To Dreaming; And That She Would Not Cry Out For Reality, Rather Would Feed Reality To Her Dreams, A Demon Elf Feeding Her Spinning Wheel With The Reeds Of The World So She Might Make Her Own Weblike Universe.

The Young Know How Truly Difficult And Dreadful Youth Can Be. Their Youth Is Wasted On Everyone Else, That's The Horror. The Young Have No Authority, No Respect.