The absurdities’ of belief can pile up rather quickly and before we know it, we’re absurd in our sightlessness, blind in our hunger… Blind hunger is suicide. Our Home is not to be destroyed by the likes of our sightless recognition, a failing grasp of where and what she is… In 13 days, time might be seen as the harbinger of our fate. (Drop and give me forty for your sightless, asinine choice to display your love in the form of fear! You are creators!) We are creators it is what we do! We envision our Heaven… and we’re a bit behind schedule! It is we that have not climbed where we need imagine this moment over all of the horror we summon face to face. We must reverse our thinking! She is heaven let us imagine, let us believe and let us know! We’ve been creating what we at first imagined was a balance between reality and make believe, it’s just that we got too carried away with our fantasies, yet it is our (fantasy) belief that can save the day. It’s now, or it’s eversleep. It’s...
(The Weaver's Song)