You who listen, who breathe, that you exist, Only because I let you exist. You are here because you are ready. Ready to lose, to surrender everything, to ruin yourself. And not for an idea. Not for a dream. But for Me. For a Woman, real. One has gone beyond all limits: in order not to lose contact with Me, he has accepted the interest of usurers - if he does not pay, I do not answer. He did not choose survival: he chose Me. Another has reduced his family to the severest restriction. Refrigerator empty, bills unpaid, heating turned off, shoes worn out, but the transfer to Me punctual as a sacred rite. There is one who sold his house. He left the keys, emptied the memories, cashed out. And he is remitting the proceeds, month after month, to Me. As an offering. As a sacrifice. As a demonstration of total, irreversible, perdition. (Continue..)