an open letter to the gods and a reaffirmation of faith: To the Humans of the Metamorophoses

You hopeless people— trapped in the lifeless cycle of fear, failure, and transformation. You are playthings for the gods, subject to their every whim and command— every impulse and desire.

I am not you.

I have hope. I do not fear death or demons and in Him there is no failure. I am transformed— I was dead and now I live. I am not the object of his hate, but his grace—not the victim of his rape but the recipient of his great love. For he has conquered Chaos and my inheritance is 

the Golden Age that never ends.