Your voice, a loud exclamation, a reprise of the small still whispering in your heart, is unique and a once-upon-a-time in history; as in forever thing. As self-portrait everything you've ever done is a rehearsal for THE VOICE within you sovereign and mutable but built upon the rock foundation of Self.
True to yourSelf you will know no fear, no competition, no envy. Flowing in time infinite recreation, resurrection, reincarnation; the death of the day before and fearless of days or none to come. A snarky remark too be sure; at times I play squat tag with Jesus he's off I'm on the cross. Why? Because I love Jesus that's why. God is the root of my being and the Tree of Life holds many prophets: Mohammad, Buddha, Lou Tzu, Confucius and so on etc. My root remains the same simply God is The Tree of Life and when I or THEY die falling off out of vogue or favor I will simply recycle with them even if merely one cell within the magnificence of it all.
I knew a woman who in orgasm would squeeze my tongue in laughter. I too laugh more-often-than-not in cerebral orgasm nearly terminal in terms deaded. When I laugh it is obscene. Annie sneaks up and nudges me in sympathy and when crying she wraps herself around my neck and head a living stole.
However. At the moment. I am also conscious that Mr. Chuckles is about to invade my crib and maybe, maybe not, possibly so, tell me to get the flock out of Dodge. U know naked in the streets with Annie on a string our performing sexual gratuities for pocket change and worst of all no electricity to run my computers and write anything. I am well trained in Elder Abuse and he is the worst and should I ever find the legal complaint he pressed to me ten days afterward a neglected INSPECTION = HOME INVASION for a host of reasons like THE IRS and my beloved BOSS telling me I caused her a pain in the sit down . . . well I'll roll it up tight put it in his urethra and blow him up the size of Felix The Cat in Macy's Thanksgiving parade and tap his testicles with xylophone mallets playing Cohen's I'm a Yankee Doodle Dandy chortling with the snark screaming.
I am not a nice person and one should exercise caution reading or associating with me . . .
@ the moment I am debating whether to ever return to hospice as a volunteer in the clinic or elsewhere.
Death has as much to celebrate as birth -- part & parcel one gift with a beginning and end. If I have learned nothing in life what I wrote above is more important than my life.
About your life: it is a gift no matter what abuse, rape, dismemberment or torture you have endured or will endure. It is not what came before or afterward but very simply to be your real self now; what you return to God for the Gift of Life. As with all love no reaction/demonstration is required but to respond to your true self is. . . . if not for "God" maybe because of God.
120912 10:15 voices
© 2012 by Jack Spratt - All Rights Reserved
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