I get really sick of you, you know. I really don’t need your help to remind me of all the things I shoulda/woulda/coulda done. Nor do I need you to point out the ways I’ve disobeyed God. Sometimes you go so far to plant these lies in my head that sound so believable that I begin to believe them. You are nothing more than a liar and thief and I want you outta my head. Take your eviction notice and beat it – this brain belongs to the author of Truth.