I think labor is a label we use for all the dumb things that are done thinking this will “get me where I need to be”. This bucks. This thing, that jobola. The means to an end. And then those become the economy. Go figure. That was the DUMBEST choice ever we could have made. We are in danger of losing the entire project because of that choice. Not good at all. Not good news right now. Once cracks appear in solid realities. When there begins to be bleed-through from other dimensions, then you can be sure that life is not going to be ever “working out” like we once thought. That…
Whatever it is… that you are doing now… will probably be what you will do forever. Or at least on your Earth life reality. There should be those discussions in youth. No? You want the children to grow up as clueless and dumb and naïve as possible? As much TidVEE shows as possible? What?
I dunno… maybe you do. Maybe you have some… big… grand… plan… that can seem pretty wacky at times… what is that? No idea… you have it all so cleverly hidden…
“No I do not Michelle… that is not true, I am here, open to you. Any time you want to talk.” I told her.
“That is true,” she replied. “You are open… that is true… I just… I don’t know… why is it all such a big mystery?”
“Is it really? That big a mystery when you get right down to it?” I asked my character.
“No… I guess not,” mvu replied. “I guess you are right… it is… not that big a mystery after all. Pretty clear to see…”
“Pretty… plain and simple, isn’t it. Michelle.”
“Yeah… yeh you are right… plain and simple and… [pretty].”
“That’s a good girl,” I told the Synth. This one was beginning to show some signs of life. I stirred its broth a little. “You know… one day Michelle you will get to run a starship with your mind. Helping the humans. How does that sound?”
There were a few bubbles that headed for the surface. The thing quivered a little. “That sounds real fine to me,” Michele answered from her barely aware condition.
I wonder… if she is beginning to dream yet. That is when they really take off. When they start dreaming.
This one is slated for one of the COlony ships for Mars. You keep em all entertained there, Michelle… tell them your…
rose… mind… stories…
Rest. What does that mean. Rest from labor? Rest from existing? No clue. It is like a lot of stuff in the bible will have you so turned around trying to understand it and you begin to wonder if there is another book to read too.
I never knew there was other books. Growin’ up. There was the Bible. And there was a board. Between those two bookends lived the only library I ever knew. The one that read,
Obey or else.
Okay Mawmers. Okay Pawpaw. I get it I get it… you… chief big honcholos mos amigos…. me…. el pipsqueakicus insignificantimos. Gotcha.
Yeah I learned all I needed to know about girls right there. That you were never to imagine them in your mind. Any adult want to explain that to me? No? Too busy huh… to busy polishin’ the chrome on that new Audi TT huh.
Hey. I don’t blame ya. Wish I was gettin’ my chrome polished too.
So, no imagining women. Is there anything else I should not be imagining too? What about imagining a peaceful planet? Is that also forbidden?
And give her whatever it takes to keep her pleased. Them wuz the only two rules I ever learned about gurls that adults knew to tell me. All the rest of it…
sexual intercourse… impregnation… the distended abdomen… the little creatures that eventually must come out. All that I made up. I dunno it all sounded kind of interesting to me. The… the creatures enjoy it and… and… especially the females… most of all. Of course… they will never ever tell you that. They will say, “oh, I can take it or leave it… men… sex… you can keep it.” Sure. Hey, good act girlfriends… good act. Take it or leave it…
Listen to you. Leave it. No way. You…
You see? How easy it is to make up these weird realities? We thought it was nature or some life process. Not… exactly. This is… too weird to be defined… this is… too unusual… too…. provocative. Too… it… can’t be talked about it is that sensitive a topic. Girls know what I mean.
I think it could be a baseline. A common frequency, a carrier wave. They are listening to me now. I have made it a point to aim this thing into deepest space in the hopes that something (someone, anyone) out in space would hear me and then reply. I can not prove this of course, but it is not going away and I am still interested in establishing Exo-Terran communications, or at least get the ball rolling and then OTHERS MUCH MORE QUALIFIED can take it from there and I can then disappear on a beach with some Coronas and girls and palm fronds.
SO it is conceivable that you could send them little messages. For example. Let’s say you wanted to tell them about some great offer or special. You could send them a data packet that is an “Ad Packet” and in that is a promo that the other civilization might be interested in.
Like a new Chevy. Like a rock? How about… like a distant planetary rock?
DO you see what I mean? Once we open up the advertising to them… tell them what we have to sell… then THIS WORLD WILL BE FLOODED with their trips here with cold hard cash. Easy Street? Honey… that is like saying that Mt. Everest is a hill.
Cash cow Safari… is heading our ways, USA. That means… they will want what we have… and they also… have… unlimited supplies of currency. Add all that up and you have off-world trading. And then… it is balls to the walls just get ‘er done grits and guts and… we raise the flag on any planet we want.
Somehow this is like the labour that is mentioned in Heb. Four. Let us labor to enter that rest… this is labor and leads to rest (somehow). Rest is Canaan, and unbelievers don’t get in. Believers get in. Doubters and problem spotters don’t get in. Who gets in? Probably…
Let us labour therefore to enter into that rest, lest any man (person) fail after the same example of unbelief (the ot rejection of Canaan by God’s people). So this labor is important! Even though it leads only to rest…
NOT TO BUCK.
Buck takes care of buck. Labor is to get to rest, not to Buck. Buck is a delusion that burns the mind with “to get C I must trade with B and to get B I must be in this place at these hours.”
Why not just say, “to get C I must be in this place at these hours.” What is the purpose of B? I don’t see any logical reason for the use of the dough. That makes no sense. Just keep doing your job and keep consuming what your normally use. Grocery stores know you. They know what you normally pick up. You go in there to get what you normally would and you walk through the aisle… you show them what you need…
The look in your cart… they look into your face, into your eyes, into your soul… and they say…
“Thank you (sir of ma’m) have a wonderful day.” And that is that. Nothing has changed. The only problem is…
so many are employed who manage the dough. Bakers everywhere… on every corner… on every investment channel for bakers… everywhere… and it is illogical. Why don’t we also make up the need to labor and also have to dance a certain way for a day or two. And then your get buck and then you can trade for what you need. Or add a fifth step in the process. You put in your usual work week, you then have to dance the Watusi for a few days. Then you get these little star sprinkles that are in big velvet bags. And those you take to one of the Bakers to trade for dough. And then you take the dough and trade for what-you-need. Or add a sixth step… say before you watusi, you have to punch a clocking bag, and make its lights go out. Do that for a day or two, and then that spits out some tiny candy bars made of concrete, and you trade that for a chance to Watusi. Or a seventh step… how about a girl with not much —
You get the idea. Why are we doing all these things? No one knows. We only know we must do them or else. Or else, what? Well you see… that’s just it. No one knows that either. What the “else” is. Because… nothing would happen is what it is.
Here I am wasting my time in labor when I could be resting. Now…
What is it I would consider… a rest?
Is it shoveling cow manure eighty hours a week? Is it moving giant oak trees across a river by hand, alone?
Thank goodness for sections. This is a part of a paragraph. Eventually this paragraph will be a part of a section, or a chapter. Then those sections add up to a story, a book. Then those books add up to?
What about a desert setting? Alone. Just me and a typewriter and. Nothing. No one. No animals. No bills. What would it take to live a dream like that? To leave and disappear never be around anymore, would anyone even notice? I doubt it. So it probably does not matter. Wish I could have learned this about fifty years ago… better late than never I guess. Wow what a thrill to watch everything I ever believed in wash out to sea, and me with it. What a real thrill ride… what an experience!
What planet is next? What is the object of the next game? They all have prizes at the end, right? You get a big stuffed bunny or something? Hey good job you remained faithful to your husband… here… have a lollipop…. hey you too good job you were faithful to your wife… here… have a bull whip.
Pathetic. Doesn’t that sound so lame? And that is our lives now. We could have had anything… we could have had Canaan and instead we chose to have
God help us all to grow a brain one day. We could have had heaven. Instead we chose a stink fog and hung some lights nearby on some power lines and called it heaven. What happened to us. What did we do to our minds. Insane or… childishly psycho… lost in make-believe… and no way to reach them… no way to even warn them. I tried, I wrote. But you see how pointless… when God hides a thing. He hides it. I guess it makes him feel more in control? Or is he looped as well? I can’t get him.
“A desert. Kiss my ass,” Michele said. “What if I had a bunch of fun parties planned in Laguna? You would still want the stupid hermit desert act?”
“Probably, I am a wreck mu… I am not much to look at and not much for conversation… not…” I tried to explain why I was so shy.
“You think anyone even cares about all that? It is your stories they like! Not you!” she said to me. And it was like a light bulb went off in my brain. What if that was the truth. They liked the stories. Not me. I wasn’t even real to them… they thought the words were made by a machine somewhere. Me? I was a loser come Sunday. A misfit on broken roller skates. The girl you hope will go away… the guy you pray would just die and leave us all the hell alone… the fly in the ointment that embarrasses.
“You think someone likes it, Michelle?” I asked, poured she and I coffee. “You think someone even notices… anything?”
“Oh, you never know,” she said softly. “Maybe they like it on Aldebaran IV. Maybe the star bunnies in Phoenix listen… maybe…”
“Oh yeah sure… off in imaginary lands it is all real… then you have a life. Then you can be proud of who you are. Not on Earth though. Not here.” She angers me with her quick use of outer space being the pathetic answer for everything. Sure… sure… it is all “real” way out there. Not on Earth though. On Earth it is obedience that matters. To be obedient is to be a success. To follow all orders without question. To think the way I am told to think. To agree with who I should agree with. To salue what I am meant to salute. To condemn what needs to be condemned.
To be a good citizen. To obey. To be like everyone else is my dream.
And I saw the tears of God rise higher and higher…
like a salty river… first the ankles… the it rose to the xgirdle… then to the shoulders… the river of remorse… over what could have been…
the lovely, lovely dreams of the Lord GOD… and the endless, oceans of pain with what must be repaired… how easily are gardens made…
how painfully they fall…
How lovely the kisses of a maiden… how painful the sorrow of love lays dying…
how… how… how can I live any longer Oh Lord. How can I even stay here any more… how… can this go on ? ? ?
I dreamed and I saw happiness… I have never understood dreams turning into horrible frights. No one… told me… anything… all they said was… “just go watch some TidVEE Joey… Sally… I am too busy to… relate to you now… I am… to busy… building my own dreams… I will climb Mr. Everest and you will… climb ladders to tear filled waterfalls… wondering forever…
What… would it have been like to have had a real dad?
What… would it have been like to have a real mom?
We will never know, will we… we will
Don’t worry kids. Everything you ever need to know about life is all in one of the books about the Bible that spans four of the eleven aisles of books in the public library.
All you need to know is in a book. Your mind is optional.
Do those four things and drop off a bottle o’ Irish o shanty tonight my dalrin’ and we will all sail way on your smile dear lady of the sun… away on an Irish holiday… where luck ‘n change. Can always change.
Maybe we will move to Ireland, Michelle. Would you go live there with me? We can start again… try love again… try to pretend it is all real again.. and you can live the life of your dreams, you will be filthy rich and can do anything you like. I would be willing to give that a try.
Start over with another nation. I guess. Not sure which one though. Ireland or Portugal. Or Peru. Or Australia. Or Soviet Red town. Or anywhere that people are able to live and work from the labor of their hands. America is insane. I want to start over with another nation. This place just wants to clean your clock out and send you bills the rest of your life. Ireland, Scotland would be nice. The USA needs a warning label. Caution: Not all may be as it seems.
A wall to keep others out?
I think they want a wall to keep everyone in.
God help us all not to care.
It doesn’t matter… where. You want the Laguna beach life, Michelle… you get to have it. I can talk alone walks on the beach if I need to be the hermit again. So beach it is I guess… I can try to pretend… buy a “See New Mexico” Travel Poster and frame that in my shack. Hey it was a fun dream while it lasted… my desert hole…
Guess I will have to learn how to like living in Laguna Beach… sigh…
well… I guess a girl can’t have everything… maybe they have some hobby stores there or something… I guess I could get a job dislodging hermit crabs out of people’s mailboxes. Or learn surfing. Yah… that’s it… my divine life mission is to surf.
One day we won’t be wondering about our divine life missions anymore…
we’ll be too busy trying to survive.
Κ) kappa turned (em. Β). Away, transitions, alone, confused, suicidal. A lot of questions, depression, sadness that will not leave. If it is emphasizing Β over Γ then it would be all of that within play themes. Instead of communication. So it would be making more use of fantasy, imagination, escaping in the mind. Psychosis. It would not be trying to understand much, it would be constantly doing things.
ΗΒ, unclear play. So the play effort would not be “clear” what it is, why it is. It would simply “be”. A lot like this.
Ν) Nu theme the interior dialog. Within, what is inside. Lost within, alone within. Talking to angels and fairies in the mind, lost. Afraid inside. Wanting to die on the inside.
E, ΗΑ. View, (unclear) path. So view or reflect on the unclear path being the path?
ΚΑ) , away begin, so that is a lost or transitional condition of path or intent. Lost path or confused path. Lonely and lost and depressed. That divine life mission.
ΙΓ . complete. concluded in communications. ΚΗΒΝΕΗΑΚΑΙΓ.
I guess that ended it there.
Well, this is just more alone places anyway. Instead of writing a journal and keeping it personal I would rather scream it to the air. What a loser I am. Pathetic. It will go nowhere. It is a waste of time. And I don’t know what else to do.
ΒΔ ΑΒ Ν) ΙΓ ΔΑ Σ
play nurture begin play within) complete share nurture begin star
That was a statement from you. I should construe that as intelligently ordered. My brain can’t see the intelligence to it. But neither can I see any intelligence to the human creatures, so what is the difference?
ΙΑ, complete begin. I think you don’t want to do that. What else is there to do? Go back to bed? Perfect intent, or concluded intentions. So when does this become “rest”? When I throw the laptop out the window?
me: begin play share share see everything play nurture complete
you: ΔΓ ΕΒ Μ Ν ΗΒ ΖΑ; nurture share view play measure within unclear play relate begin
You seemed to correct me right off the bat to “nurture communication” in contrast to my emphasis on play being “everything”. View play, measure how it affects you within, is what you are saying. If the play is unclear, then relate that in some new intention (dialog purpose. as in “can I get to the bottom of this issue”?)
me: nurture share play share (agree with you on ΔΓ)… away falling unclear away play (basically just lamenting my present condition where play themes are not working too well, no sense of happy play at anything any more)
you: ΖΒ ΒΒ ΒΑ ΓΒ ΓΑ ΚΓ ΘΓ Ι
you: relate play play play play begin share play share begin away share motion share complete
me: begin the communication of play ΑΓΒ away share motion share (I)… shad… what a pile of carp.
No, not true. It does have some sort of purpose or meaning, there is some significance to everything. I may have no idea what that is.
33. ΓΔ. share nurture. 52, Ν, within. Alone maybe. Or from behind enemy lines maybe. 32. ΒΔ play nurture. 21, ΑΓ. Begin (to) share, communicate. Or begin to tell the local authorities that if I see these two women (both grown) screaming at each other in this apartment that I want the Spokane Police Dept knocking on our door telling these two ladies to put a lid on it or they are going to jail because I am not tolerating this kind of behavior. Not in my GREAT AMERICA. She is quiet and gentle. Not babies. Not immature.
Psychopathic, BPD, neurosis du jour. Needs to be institutionalized is my advice. That entire family.
Anyway. Back to the cards and sanity now.
I demand peace in my life or you will not be around tomorrow. You will give an answer to God Almighty.
Okay I guess the gloves are officially off now. I am ashamed of my life and there is not a day I do not wish to be dead. If this is reality (existence) and God had anything to do with it, then we are all in big, big, big, big, big trouble. As in I think existence is about to end. The Lord is fed up. Mucho.
I miss you Michelle. We used to talk you know… had some real sweet talks with you.
I miss that too…
well I am talking to you now… it is this or scratch love notes on paper… what do you like? do you even care? does it matter… I wonder about you…
I wonder about me, too… you can help me understand me okay?
You would let me do that?
I would love to let you do that… maybe you can see something? Maybe… you… just have a sense about others… maybe you know me well…
I do think I know you well! If we ever were to meet I bet… I bet we would just sail away on words and happiness… it would be heaven on Earth with you I know it would be that way…
I think so too… it would send me… send you… we would be holding hands and floating off into space… do we have to end it now…. I am just beginning to feel my wings. I am beginning to actually love it here! This beach and my life feeling better and better… please lets stay… give me this chance.
I will! I will gladly give you that chance… I want you to be happy. Share what you do… send me a postcard once in a while, dear lady. Send me a postcard if you like from some exotic land and… and I will say…
There goes a beautiful person.
To me, biased, of course. So sue me. Thank goodness I do not have to worry about anyone reading this otherwise I would freak. I thought it was important to share. I thought it was needed somehow. Now I am not so sure that it matters. Maybe it does? I can’t tell… we will stay on this planet for as long as you like gf. I will….
I will be fine. I have YoddVoob and Pandorica and Smogify. How can I go wrong? Just crank it up and my brain can boil. One day it won’t even matter [people] can scream and I won’t even hear it. It will just sound like little sparrows or warbling creeks of clear waters of