Some of it sounds biblical except fot the last half of the 2nd paragraph (starting at the jesus in parenthasis, and a few things in the 1st). none of that is true. i’ve heard a few stories of people who have seen heaven then came back to life. the bible talks of angels who play harps, no more pain or suffering, a crystal clear river flowing from the throne of god (however, it’s not biblical of people swimming in it), and no more thirst or hunger, and it will always be peaceful (the reason being is because the people who did not follow god and except him are in hell). the things that aren’t biblical are the stars giving light because the bible says that god is the light of heaven and there is no day or night. and i’m 100% sure jesus does not look like that.
Do you go for traditional green, or more adventurous? ive seen some nice white and gold ones. i was considering a black one but settled for a teal one. its pretty
€œhow do i look, helen?†clytemnestra asked, whirling around in her skirts to help me get a better look.she looked lovely. i told her so. with a smile that quickly disappeared, she said (in her usual bossy way), “help me with my makeup.â€i applied white lead powder to her face and red ochre paste to her lips. she had already applied kohl to rim her eyes and painted her eyelids with saffron. she had also applied henna to her fingertips.she was arraying herself to go meet her suitors, and she made sure that she was very beautiful. in addition to her flounced skirt, with bright come-hither colors, she had on an indigo colored bodice, in which was tucked a piece of gauzy and translucent coan silk, rubbed with olive oil until it shone. her curly black hair had been massaged with myrtle oil the night before, myrtle being the flower of aphrodite. on her finger was a heavy ring of iron and around her neck was a necklace of red stones. a golden diadem held her hair in place.philonoe, my youngest sister, went up to clytemnestra and reached for her face, a pretty, bright thing she hadn’t noticed before. she picked her up with a smile, but kept the little one’s hands away from her face. she quickly sat her back down again and made for the door.as she reached it, she turned and said to me, “stay in the chambers and don’t bother me.†she walked off toward the feast hall, where she would meet her prospective husbands.i knew why she wanted me away, even though i was only twelve summers old. she considered me, or more appropriately, my beauty, a threat. i did not understand why, though. my beauty, my curly blonde hair and blue-green eyes, my high cheekbones and plump lips, had simply been a fact of life, like the sun rose in the morning or that rain fell from clouds, something announced by everyone who had met me.i decided to spend the hours she was going to be gone weaving. sitting at the loom, i told smyrna, my old nurse, to bring me the brightest wool to make a cloak for the rites of the goddess of the hunt, starting in about a month.the rites were reserved for young virgins who would congregate on the banks of the eurotas river near the temple of the goddess. the night would be passed in singing, dancing, and drinking unwatered wine. i did not know if clytemnestra would attend, as she was almost a married woman. timandra, phoebe and philonoe gathered around me to watch me weave. timandra and philonoe had inherited my mother’s curly black hair and father’s facial features, a hawkish nose, go green black eyes, and a small, thin mouth. phoebe had flyaway red hair and brown eyes, with a delicate nose and a mouth that seemed too wide for her face. mother, leda, had died a few years earlier giving birth to philonoe. mother had always been gossiped about, and the circumstances surrounding my birth were very murky. the people said i was born of my mother’s pet swan, zeus in disguise, and mother. tyndareus, my father, never talked to me, and whenever i approached him, he knotted his fists and stalked out of the room. the only children he knew were his were the oldest, the boys, castor and polydeuces, now off on one of their adventures. they must’ve been, as they were like him in every way except their natures, which were free and good and happy. his other children had all taken after their mother, except me, who did not take after either parent.
She doesn’t sound like a green card chaser, she sounds like a prostitute taking a yoga class.