Help Me
You don’t need any help, except of yourself. Find you, be a builder of light.
You don’t need any help, except of yourself. Find you, be a builder of light.
Reach out, spit on the ground, wooden well, iron spell, if I lie I go to hell…
The biological cycle is built on death which rots the body and nourishes life.
Those who bother me are removed. Conversely, my helpers are rewarded.
Religion creates a bond between its followers. It also binds. The believer isn’t free.
The conquest of the unknown is fraught with risks. People prefer the mundane.
Did Fabre d’Olivet have a presentiment of the existence of an original language?