Benjamin+Clifford+-+May+30,+1822

What does it take for someone to be called a god? Does he simply have to convince weak fools to obey him?

I am convinced that power runs much, much deeper than that of one who can possess the body of a man and swing about a shiny spear. A man like Cartwright sets up shop in Ireland and aspires to take on the world. Does God follow in the pattern of a pampered, petty pimp? Why should he worry about some washed-up French soldier when he holds the universe in his hands?

If I am as small as I had thought, then surely Robert is not so big. Why on earth should I concern him? How could I possibly stand in his way? What good does him my soul if his ambitions are to change the world? Is the world not his to change, if he is God?

Surely there is something beyond this. I suppose I must be on my way to find out. My soul I have kept, and it will go to the real God. Goodbye to you, James, Brocc, and Frank. Soon I will see Timothy again.

Hello, who’s this now? … Who are you? … Yes... I want to live.