You know how this works. Angels of the Lord God visit me. Sometimes in my sleep. Sometimes while I spend my days meditating in this cave, burning incense and inhaling vapors. Sometimes late at night after drinking and dancing with my boyfriends. Sometimes when I am sick with fever, blood dripping from my exhausted anus.
This was back in the days when the Romans were still relatively kind to us Christians, sending us into exile instead of throwing us to the lions. So, there I was, exiled to some tiny Greek island, waiting for the end of the world that Jesus had warned us, promised us, was coming soon.
And I am. Coming. Soon.
Behold, he is coming! He is coming for me, and for you, and especially for those who nailed him to the Cross. Nobody will escape him!
I am the Alpha and the Omega. I have already come. I am standing next to you, always. I will be here long after you are gone. I am Time.
Holy, Fuck! This is no angel ... this time Jesus himself spoke to me:
Write this down! You will send copies to my 7 churches.
Do not be afraid. I am the first and the last, the one who lives. Once I was dead, but now I am alive forever and ever. I hold the keys to death and the netherworld. Write down, therefore, what you have seen, and what is happening, and what will happen afterwards.
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