“Who talked you into the pursuit of this nonsense, leaving me high and dry, forgetting you ever knew me? Because I don’t yell and make a scene, do you think I don’t exist? I’ll go over, detail by detail, all your ‘righteous’ attempts at religion, and expose the absurdity of it all. Go ahead, cry for help to your collection of no-gods: A good wind will blow them away. They’re smoke, nothing but smoke. “But anyone who runs to me for help will inherit the land, will end up owning my holy mountain!” * * *
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