Some sort of calculus.

.

.

I... keep seeing the numbers, formulas, variables, and constants tossed as if to say something.  Accuse?  Me?  Not... necessarily.  Though, they are saying they see something in what is written here.  I claim nothing, other than what I suggest, if even that, only according to the Author.

The devil?  A devil.  A good devil, bad?  Even if I choose, it isn't for me to say.

The dreams.  So many, so vast, so potent.  Who?  Indeed.

Sins?  Does God call on the horsemen?  Or loose them to sin?

If they do His will, is that sin?

Must one be sinless to do the divine will?

You do realize, you will judge even the host on high?

Still, I... think I get your points, too.  These are from you.  Trying to understand?  Or... do you understand?  Accusing?  Denying?  Remembering?  Some of you, as with me, remember the future better than the past.  If the past is not forgotten, for it is the dim distant future.  Or... is it closer than it seems?

I... it... between the dreams and these flooding in...  A terrible sinner, requesting to be allowed sanctity?  But, there it is.  Things to do.  Not all pleasant.  By me?  Myself and mine?  Even if so, only through you, as all things of His will are done.  Odd that.  How that works I still haven't fully understood.  Then again, perhaps I am just eyes which see, nothing more.  Even with eyes closed, as it were.

Insanity?  If you insist.  If you need that, to get you through, to do what you must, so be it.  Though... I really wouldn't count on it.  I've tried, myself.  It is not allowed, for those who choose to see, and hear, what should be seen and heard.  Though, perhaps, that is enough for you.  So long as you do as you must, even to death.  Or, perhaps as with me, far beyond death, and even many deaths.  Amen.