¡Nadie espera a la Inquisición Española!
I've met God across his long walnut desk with his diplomas hanging on the wall behind him, and God asks me, "Why?"
Why did I cause so much pain?
Didn't I realize that each of us is a sacred, unique snowflake of special unique specialness?
Can't I see how we're all manifestations of love?
I look at God behind his desk, taking notes on a pad, but God's got this all wrong.
We are not special.
We are not crap or trash, either.
We just are.
We just are, and what happens just happens.
And God says, "No, that's not right."
Yeah. Well. Whatever. You can't teach God anything.
God asks me what I remember.
I remember everything.
Why did I cause so much pain?
Didn't I realize that each of us is a sacred, unique snowflake of special unique specialness?
Can't I see how we're all manifestations of love?
I look at God behind his desk, taking notes on a pad, but God's got this all wrong.
We are not special.
We are not crap or trash, either.
We just are.
We just are, and what happens just happens.
And God says, "No, that's not right."
Yeah. Well. Whatever. You can't teach God anything.
God asks me what I remember.
I remember everything.
We are not special.
i would like to disagree...каждый из нас особенный,даже неповторимый.со своими мыслями,чувствами,каждый уникален,ну уж если не каждый,то по крайней мере есть особенные,либо слишком счастливые,либо глубоко несчастные...
And God says, "No, that's not right."
а "Это еще умеет и говорить?"
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"Когда вы говорите с Богом - это называется молитва, когда Бог говорит с вами - это шизофрения."