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heart of the devil

Last night I put my hand on the heart of the devil himself. HIs skin was cold, I could only see him from the waist up as though the rest of him was missing or buried in the earth. He was humanoid.. with horns, with skin the color of dust. His heart was black. Someone had called me over. She was fearful of him because he had vowed to put a curse on us at burning man. There was a little rock, or piece of mud.. or piece of shit that held within it a spell. I took it from his hand. The girl shrieked in fear. "NO!!! He is going to curse us all if you do that" Knowing that this is only a fear trick, I set the little brown crappy ball aside and asked Satan if his heart was here, at his chest. He moaned a yes. I put my hand above his cold black heart and began sending shock waves of love from my own. I was almost distracted and awakened, but I slipped myself back into the work, for I knew it was important. sending love... lots of love into the coldest of hearts.

The most "evil" things in the world need the most love. Things are only "evil" due to their lack of love.

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