Movements...

There are those who are never content. They live their lives in some form of pretense, some form of fiction, some form of illusion. The environments they create only perpetuate their illusions of an alter-ego. They are loved for their suavity, articulateness, and dilettantism? They walk among the living souls. They are toxic, infectious, and malicious.

It's not so much they forget their past, they hate and deny such events. As if they came into this world formed, made, and loved. This is all fiction! So, do these people belong to any type of world or reality?

It takes so much effort to create such worlds, such pretenses, such fiction. One needs to sustain these lies, these fabrications, but at what cost? Something "Faustian?"

These people do pray, they receive sacraments, they are even worthy of God's love, mercy and justice. If we, for a moment, can imagine a type of hell: one that is specific for the type of men and women I have briefly described, a type of hell where they are eternally left in the darkness of their own self-hatred.

The world they have created have turned against them, their lies have betrayed them, and there is nothing left for them to manipulate and control.

May God's peace be with them.

Has anyone seen my copy of Marlowe's Dr. Faustus...?