This is the blog by me, by Vaccinius, that is Anders Woje Ellingsen, as the creator of Trixnix. All content on this blog, and all content by me elsewhere on Trixnix, is by me as a private person. I do not represent any state, any church, any organization or any community. Google, and by Google the company Blogger, is responsible for the technical presentation of the web sites on Trixnix, and benefiting from the service, I respect the terms of use as any other individual using the services of Google does. I love the services of Google.

Monday, 16 April 2018

Getting rid of it

The contamination done by Satan in my apartment is encompassing. The entrance is brownish, all way around, the storage room by the entrance less so, though with many strokes of whatever on the walls, and terribly looking shelves. All doors in the apartment were contaminated, and looking dirty. The bathroom was a mess, and whenever I showered, Satan used to come back, when I had left the apartment, to put drops of brownish illness on the walls, and on the roof. The kitchen was totally destroyed. All doors on the kitchen cabinets were full of shit, and so were the walls, and so were the equipment. Also inside of the cabinets there were dirt smeared on, in corners, on the surfaces of shelves, and in crevices. The shit was not removable by cleansers, and could only be removed by technical spiritus. The roof is not infected any other place than in the doorway and in the bathroom. The walls are impossible to clean.

The Lord lets me know the apartment now is tidy. Still, there is some cleaning to do. And I look forward to get a replacement of the dishwasher Satan destroyed, to wash whatever is in kitchen cabinets, and to wash the cabinets inside.

The Lord let me now the shit is not harming. I have never been ill by the shit.

I believe Satan have given more than one reason to turn my apartment into a garage. Satan, though, have only one motive, and that is to kill.

Even if my apartment was looking like hell, I believe I have lived in luxury compared to Rembrandt, for instance. I had space. And the furniture made the place a bit cosy, despite the excrement. And even if my house was better than the house of Rembrandt, I was the better painter. I was the artist of all times.

.·: † :·.

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