Gravy And Guns

The greatest excuse. On your last day, you die. You realize something sad, and, then, poof; it’s OVER! Well, hope is, it’s you and you are going on from there, and, that, there is a OVER THERE, over there, and, you’re instantaneously FREE from all of the BAD shit here. In fact, my hope is, there is NO-SHIT! No shit! None, no more, forever!!

If that were the case, then, that, for me, would be heaven. If I was to in time realize I was born again, and, well, if I didn’t know about anything else other than the present, I’d be okay, I guess, but from this point of view, it’s idiotic. I don’t want myself or any other self passing this way, EVER again. And I mean that, FOR-EVER!! I NEVER want to return, for any reason, at ANY time. Once for me here has been sufficient. I think I’ve got a good handle on it, as weak and inept and insufficient funds I’ve been, most of my life. Yeah, that.

SPOCK is gone and friends and family and neighbors are in trouble, sad, hurt, dying, and it’s all one sick, terrible, and horrific mess. Really. Sad. But, for me, I’m somehow able to go forward. I get up and move. All the while though I cringe in moments, wondering, when it will overwhelm and suddenly I’ll be sad and awfully downbeat besides. Yeah, that some catastrophe hits and HITS SLAM HARD!! So much as I can’t overcome. I think about that, a lot, in addition to making whatever it is I’m making for the moment. I just do.

It’s all gravy and there are guns everywhere. The mess is the gravy, every thing all together. The guns are the tools we use to make things happen, for good or ill. Some times a little of both, which is what I think most of life is. Most things are, a little of both. Both Good And Bad.

About wneal5796 IOPE moisturised and Kiehl's conditioned
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