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Leslie is the ballerina in a music box. She is like what a strope is to the
edge of a razor. The finishing touch. She's also like a sharp razor with an edge so thin it's invisible. You never know you've been cut because you don't feel it. Then you start falling apart and don't know why. I don't buy into human Higher Powers, because they are limited. For instance, destitute people regress, connect, and suck out resources from other people to recover. I rely on a non-human Higher Power, and it takes me awhile to figure out how these other psychic vampires do it. It seems the more I figure them out, the more I become one like them. Maybe I don't need to know. It's curious, though. Leslie instigated my need for God again, and He came back as a moment of inspiration when I needed it most. I think that was a turning point for me, as closest to God as I could get and not be burned to ashes. Now I've seen two extremes. The white star and the black hole. Neither one is realistic. Some kind of hybrid of the two is more reasonable. It's all downhill from here. I'm not some sort of game. Let's see how fast the tables turn. |