The Wave of a Hand…

immersed in the self and the importance of being, full of the self, he makes his way to his next appointment, focused on the me and nothing else, nothing means more to him than success, well, it’s the mantra of our existence and when it gets in the head, what else is there to think of. He was after finishing class, the day was going well, it was a pass, the day before had delivered, it was a clear cut victory, he had being delivered, amen. He grabs a coffee. He is on a hurry, it’s a sip and a dunk, then he will be gone from the surrounds.

“Hi!”

She waves her hand, he waves back, there is a smile on her face. How simple was that, she was rooted to her chair, and didn’t get out much, but her face lit up with a smile.

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Park The Ego, you might learn something.

She enters the room, he is lying in bed, its’ time to change the nappy again. Move she says, her voice is gentle, she has come half way across the world to make a living. He made his wealth exploiting her people, now he is dependent on her, move a little left. She looks at the mess, her nostrils constrict, she has done it before, but it still smells like shit. She dumps the used nappy in the thrash, move she says, how did I get into this mess, she is giving me orders; I used to own the damn country. She leaves him, he has all the time to think, there is not much he can do, he has to suck it up. The stuff you wished you done; and I exploited her people, moved the factory to the low paying people, the profit was great, now, the epiphany is too late, but he has eternity to remind himself. Choices, worse that that, he is getting reminders of the life to come. How did i miss it, he used to think he was wise, a clever man, instead, he has a devoted mother cleaning him each day; He should think himself lucky, at least she has no intention of exploiting him, amen.

Solomon encountered the Great Spirit, and much more, there is loads to look forward to, amen.

He has an additional memory, damn it, I polluted the environment too!

Encouragement

I went in his house and sat down. I was a stranger. And he took it upon himself To make me feel comfortable. He did. Just a feel good moment.

via I Was A Stranger — The Chatter Blog

The Young Master

He went to reach for his toothbrush, felt a brush against his leg, two sleepy eyes look up at him, Solomon smiled, inside he thought to himself, I hoped you would stay in bed, even an hour would have been great, that plan is gone, he continues to wash his teeth instead. Little hand reaches for his, Solomon smears it with paste, watches while the child imitates his moves, his small eyes watching how he moved the brush across his mouth, half laughing, but seriously laughing, glad to have a role model, one he

could argue with, one he could ask, one he was not afraid of. Stern words were never spoken, just a cast of the eyes and a frown did the trick every time. The routine is finished, the time for the breakfast, Solomon does the big friend thing, sits down and eats with the small boy. Slurp after slurp, the watchfulness of the young master, imitating the teacher, a wise young child.

How Children imitate it all; and how those charged with responsibilities tried to blame the individual for their failures. Later; He hears the cot move, the time is early morning, Solomon sighed; so this is what it’s like to be a mother, your children take your attention and time. The stuff Solomon learned from the young master, amen.

The Closet

It happened to me, it happened to her, the closet, the stuff we hold tight inside us, the fears, the anxieties, the global closet is a large one. In a time of great revelation, with so much changing so quickly, it is hard to keep the closet door closed and locked for ever, despite the efforts of some, to hide the truth from everyone. Solomon read a story of the art works kept hidden in secure specially prepared warehouses, art that would never be seen, only sold. And what was the purpose of it all, more. It also gave him an insight into the hidden treasures of all the main religions, the ancient documents, the testimonies hidden, and the great betrayals, safely tucked away in the guarded closets. In a time of Great revelation and divine interventions, wasn’t it time they made known the secrets they kept hidden, as no one of them could fool the Lord, amen.

In the Heads of us all…..

Can’t cope, can’t concentrate, you keep on running and those problems they keep following us. Life was a field of lava, it was all depending where you were. watching it from afar it’s not serious, up close it can all become consuming. He wondered, the flow of the lava and the human flow, or the race. He wanted to create a sermon that would help the congregation, they had been terrorized to long with the message of doom and damnation. They needed hope, a version of it that would stay in their minds. maybe that is the reason Jesus spoke in story terms: the legend would pass on, and while it may altar according to the sort of people who relayed it, basically, the use of terms common to that particular culture, the nugget would remain the same. That’s it, he saw it. The lava that flowed down the mountain, were the troubles that followed you, the problems you never dealt with, while salvation was the truth, how simple did that sound, how would he put it into the sermon, the performance was an hour away.

Me

He loves himself so much he puts himself on answerphone and listens to himself, while imposing a reality on himself that is so far removed from reality to make it real, well, they say he is crazy, how about you. The sound of his own voice soothes, so he records himself all day, then late at night he replays the whole thing again. Amazingly, people donate half a weekly wage packet to hear him sing, and they do it regularly, who am I?

It was late after Christmas dinner, they had been playing charades for over an hour, and it was beginning to get to much, even for, Me. Blame the turkey me sighed, there was something strange about it. Strange, birds eat creepy crawlies, we eat birds, strange that we don’t like creepy crawlies. Solomon sighed, he was doing the thinking. Imagine it, all those angry demons, imagine all those factory reared birds, imagine the match of all matches, matching demon spirits with those about to be decapitated for our Christmas dinner, imagine that. Disposal was a problem, even in the time of Jesus, amen.