Not Long Tales … November 12th, 2019

Jonathots Daily Blog

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14.

The Big Morning

It seems that contemplation is often the worst treatment for concern. Maybe it’s because if an answer is so readily available through simply thinking, it should have popped up by now, offering itself as a possibility. Concern requires a certain amount of relaxation—usually impossible to attain because of the energy and frustration involved in lacking an answer.

All in all, he got up from his time of rest feeling pretty good. Actually, he was surprised at how relaxed he was, considering the day laid out before him.

He had made the request just a while back to have a private meeting with the boss, to discuss his future with the organization. What a bizarre phrasing.

Future with the organization.”

Didn’t it hold to reason that if your past was excellent and your present was fruitful, that your future should be budding? Yet there was some sort of nagging fear in him, that transitions were in the making, and he might be left out.

Silly as it sounded, he always found it reassuring to get a good shave to calm the nerves. One might think that shaving was a dangerous thing to do during a fit of anxiety, but actually, because it required such precision, it slowed things down and welcomed perspective.

It also immediately offered a much less complicated choice: “To cologne or not to cologne? That is the question.”

Considering the time of day and the purpose of his business, he decided that extra fragrance was unnecessary. Then, picking the appropriate clothing.

There was nothing quite as impressive as being well dressed. After all, it was the first thing people saw. And amazingly, upon leaving the room, the last image they had of you.

Coming and going.

Navy blue. A great color—not quite as somber as black, but exuding gravitas. Yet—on this day, he chose his smoke grey suit, with just a slight hint of pinstripe. A robin-egg blue dress shirt. And then the tie.

What tie? Stripes were too gaudy for the occasion. Matter of fact, designs of any kind might draw attention away from the maturity of the conversation. He decided on a royal blue. It looked beautiful with the suit. Just looking at it hanging there delighted his eyes and generated confidence.

He was dressed.

But he was not ready. Normally, “dressed and ready” go together, but sometimes it was a good idea to get dressed—to be in your uniform of choice, so that your thinking was freed up, to garner valuable inspiration while expelling nonsense.

What was the goal of this morning? What did he want to see happen?

He decided to follow the past, present and future format—that being, when he finally stood in front of his boss, he would present the quality of his past performance, which had already been proven out; the nature of the present work ethic, which was fluid and without interruption or regret; which would immediately open the door to the future.

And what did he want to clarify with his boss about the future?

Well, certainly he wanted to know if he was in the plan. He was curious about what his role and position might be. And he was notably worried about being ignored and abandoned from the planning, forbidden the opportunity to make the endeavors more fruitful.

He took a deep breath and thought to himself, “I’ve done well. I don’t want to be arrogant. I don’t want to have to tout my accomplishments. But I have done well. Does my boss know this? Does he care? Does he take it for granted?”

Sorting through the situation was good.

Past success.

Present flow.

Future placement.

Yes—that would be his format. He would go in with a mingling of gratitude, lifting up his productivity, while quietly and intuitively offering some suggestions on change. This was the chemistry of a good meeting—to be grateful for productivity while energized by the obvious need for change.

But what would his slogan be?

While he contemplated, he walked himself into the room, looking for something to eat. Nourishment was such a trickster. It was always comforting to snack, but too much food dulled the brain, preparing it for a nap instead of a conversation.

After much consideration, he realized the meeting would not take very long, and if it went as well as he expected, he could go out, pick up a late meal and celebrate the victory—no, no. Not the victory. The harvest of the big morning.

He needed a repeating phrase—yes, something to come back to as he talked about the past becoming the present and the present evolving to a more glorious future.

With this, he considered the nature of his boss. He had watched him fervently. After all, the boss was the one who held the keys to his future. He had found this individual to be generous but unrelenting. In other words, “All is well as long as all is done well.”

Yes—that certainly capsulized him. What would he want to hear? What should be the theme of this dialogue between the two of them, to determine the horizons of their relationship?

And then, like a light bulb, it went off inside his mind. Inspiration is often like a crack of thunder followed by a flash of light.

Yes. As he explained the past, the present and the future, he would punctuate each portion by returning to a simple phrase: “Sharing burden, sharing credit.”

Indeed. This was certainly something that would go along with the company plan.

He took a moment, since there was no need to chomp on a bagel or sip any coffee, to do a trial run on his little spiel, careful to keep it under five minutes. Anything that took more than five minutes became an ordeal to the ears instead of a pleasure to the soul.

The past, then the slogan. The present, the slogan again. The future, culminating with “sharing burden, sharing credit.”

Suddenly his spirit was buoyed by memories filling his head with accomplishments and successes. He had become one of the favorites in the company. Matter of fact, last year, when it was suggested that some music was in order for a celebration, the boss had asked him to step in and organize the whole event. He was astounded at how much talent there was and how absolutely terrific the musical program turned out to be. He had never viewed himself as a person familiar with notes, beat and harmony. That was why it was essential that he do good.

You see, when you do good at things you should do good in, there’s little reward. But when it turns out that you do well when no one knows of your talent, then you began to impress—perhaps even startle.

By the time he got done putting on the musical production, he had used so many staff members that it seemed like nearly half of them were on stage, performing for the other half. It was a beautiful corporate extravaganza.

All he wanted was more of that.

More responsibility, lending itself to excellent effort. And more respect, leading to even more involvement—to where finally, he could once and for all feel what he really wanted to sense from his boss.

Confidence. And out of that confidence could come more status.

He took a deep breath.

One more practice of the speech. Thankfulness, status, and simply asking the boss to back him up without hesitation, knowing that he could be counted on for good work at every turn.

Straightening his tie, deciding at the last moment to dribble a little cologne on to sweeten his fragrance, he headed off to the meeting.

He was expected. The boss was in and waiting. This was a good sign.

He felt something really strong stirring inside him. He stepped in and looked at his boss, sitting there with a little smile on his face. It was odd. A disconcerting smirk. It did not exude pleasure or approval, but rather, appeared to be a snarl of authority—a sneer establishing superiority.

All at once, all the preparation fell to the side. Worthless.

Why did it have to be this way? Why couldn’t quality be recognized? Why was there a need to diminish staff to maintain order? He was so angry.

Everything he had plotted, everything he had reasoned and everything he had wished evaporated.

Instead of feeling grateful and ready to discuss the future, he felt small and meaningless. In a fit of rage, he stepped forward, not more than four paces from the boss.

He stuck his finger out, nearly touching his nose, and screamed, “You think you are god! YOU THINK YOU’RE GOD. Well, listen. Move over. Make room. Because Lucifer is here to stay.”

 

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Cracked 5 … October 24th, 2017


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 Things Lucifer Likes to Do On Halloween

A. Dress up like the pastor of a mega church

 

B. Binge-watch Netflix to make sure they are adequately objectifying, raping and murdering women

 

C. Spread a rumor that there may be peace coming in the Middle East and then dash everyone’s hopes

 

D. Warn people about razor blades in apples and nails in candy

 

E. Sit at home handing out Gospel tracts to trick-or-treaters while watching the 700 Club.

 

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Cracked 5 … April 4th, 2017

 

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Could These Possibly Be the Worst April Fool’s Jokes of All Time?

A.  “Hurry, Romeo! I think Juliet is dead!”

 

B.  “Mr. Booth, are you sure the President is expecting you?”

 

C.  “Adam, it’s called an apple. You’re just so stubborn–won’t try new things.”

 

D.  “Ava, don’t think of it as a bunker. It is our basement love nest.”

 

E.  “Listen, Lucifer, I’ve got this great place I’m sending you. It’s called Earth.”

 

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G-Poppers … April 8th, 2016

 Jonathots Daily Blog

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Jon close up

G-Pop’s grandson peered at him quizzically.

The idea posed by G-Pop had left the boy perplexed.

“Let’s go find a tornado.”

The little grandson was not sure where to begin, so he ran to a nearby set of books, found a picture of a tornado and presented it to G-Pop, hoping he had fulfilled the mission.

“No, not a picture,” said G-Pop. “I want a real tornado.”

Now, G-Pop’s grandson is pretty sharp, so after contemplating for a few seconds, he replied, “You can’t find a tornado without storms.”

Exactly.

Throughout the annals of human history, mankind has desperately tried to personify wickedness in the form of an incarnate evil.

  • Mephistopheles.
  • Satan.
  • Old Nick.
  • Beelzebub.

All these names, and many others, were created to strike terror in the hearts of humans, to warn us that apparently we are part of some sort of cosmic chess game, in which God and Lucifer move us around from place to place at their whim, to establish prowess.

Matter of fact, you can be alienated from the Christian community simply by failing to adequately believe in Satan.

But the devil, just like a tornado, fails to be around when there isn’t a storm created by the winds of uncertainty, anger and lust.

That’s how you make a tornado, you know–cold winds meet hot winds and swirl until there’s a physical manifestation of the conflict, which we call a twister. But without the cold and the hot, tornadoes do not exist.

It is amazing how evil the world seems when the cold indifference of people runs headlong into the hot anger of fools. All at once, it seems as if we have an uninvited Hell Being.

But is it true?

Is there an actual Evil One who stalks us? Or is he only made manifest when we arrive at the Garden of Life looking for trouble?

It’s a great question, and one that should be discussed. But I will tell you, if such a creature actually does exist, its efforts are greatly deterred if we remove the frigid apathy and the searing rage which build up because we have ceased to believe in the power of goodness.

G-Pop’s grandson asked, “What can I do to stop evil?”

G-Pop paused and replied, “Well, you see…”

(to be continued)

 

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ProbThree: “It’s not my fault” … November 3, 2013

Jonathots Daily Blog

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Uncle SamFingers.

They perform two obvious functions: touch and point.

Touching is good. It’s a way of expressing our tenderness by putting our emotion into our fingertips. Pointing is when we try to place the blame on someone or something other than ourselves. We do this in three ways:

1. Pointing up.

Sometimes we feel so inadequate, inferior, ill-prepared and ignorant that we place all of our life concerns and journey needs on God in the sky, hoping for divine intervention. We use prayer to pass the buck to our heavenly Father. So we either procure our miracle or we get to act persecuted for the lack of attention.

Belief in God should build our character, not diminish it. It should make us more willing to serve ourselves and others instead of turning us into lazy supplicaters who feel that God has a responsibility to support us–since He fathered us.

2. Pointing down.

Some people, when they discover they don’t want to blame God anymore, decide to finger Satan, Lucifer or evil, which they can point down toward as the source of their failures. It is the ultimate superstition. Not only does it unrighteously free us of our own task and involvement, but it places good and evil on an equal footing and gives darkness too much light.

3. Pointing out.

This is very popular. When in doubt, accuse someone else. When confronted with deficiency, explain your indebtedness by insisting that another person has caused you to be a debtor. It is vindictive for two reasons: (a) it takes away the joy of achieving for ourselves, and (b) it often targets people we don’t like as adversaries, when those who really ARE against us are given a free pass because we like them better.

The three approaches of fingering–up, down and out–turn human beings into inferior, superstitious, vindictive souls.

The key to ProbThree–“it’s not my fault”–is to use your finger to point IN–not to create fault, but rather, to find your own definition of responsibility.

Here is my rendition of responsibility:

A. I have ability

B. I have problems

I will never be happy if I focus on one of those more than the other. If I only tout my abilities, I look like a jerk when it becomes obvious that I’m lugging baggage around. And if I only lament my problems, I become the buzz kill that turns every party into a departure gate at an airport.

It’s the blending of the two that creates responsibility. And responsibility allows me to point at myself without feeling the need to be guilty and faulty. Here’s how it works: I use my ability to help my problems and I use my problems to enhance my abilities.

Without abilities I wouldn’t have any way of addressing the problems that come up or possess the confidence to conquer. But I have to understand that if I never have a problem, I have no need to grow and increase my talents.

So every time I put the blame on God, Satan or others, I lose the capacity to become the beneficiary of a great life lesson. I also am admitting that I’m at the mercy of whatever I’ve fingered.

So ProbThree, “it’s not my fault,” is solved by the decision to point inward, taking responsibility and using my ability to solve my problems, knowing that my problems only enhance my abilities.

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation of $10 for this wonderful, inspirational opportunity

Please contact Jonathan’s agent, Jackie Barnett, at (615) 481-1474, for information about personal appearances or scheduling an event

Culture Joys… April 19, 2012

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There were about a hundred people in the restaurant.

I was sitting there enjoying my dinner and the ambiance of the human simmering of conversation when I realized that Janet and I were the only two people of European extraction in the room. It was remarkable. It was actually quite wonderful.

Since arriving in California I have become more aware of culturalism–because California has done a great job to provide for us as a nation a human relief map of what our entire country will look like in thirty years. The United States should NEVER have been just white. After all, our whole concept was openness, acceptance and the encouragement of immigration.

But we started our segregating the Native Americans were to be segregated because…well, basically because they were in the way. We had some strange, abiding belief that black people picked cotton more easily than our white children. It might have been all right if we had treated our cotton pickers with some kindness, but apparently white supremacy goes deep into the genetic fabric of paler brothers and sisters. And when it wasn’t skin color it was nationality and when it wasn’t nationality it was religion and when it wasn’t religion it was gender and when it wasn’t gender it was sexual orientation and when it wasn’t sexual orientation, it has even come down to assessing people based on if they voted for Ronald Reagan.

Something had to come along and stop this–or God was going to sneeze and just blow us all away. May I be the first–or at least the second–to say there ARE no culture wars? There may be cultural ignorance, but it should be turned into culture joys. There is a giddiness that comes into the human heart when we finally abandon our childish prejudices to become true men and women of Planet Earth.

Last night I was delighted to perform in front of a Samoan congregation. Candidly, they stared at me a bit when they realized they had scheduled in someone of lesser-Island-experience. But it didn’t matter. By the time the evening was done, we were brothers and sisters. My only lament was that the Samoans love to eat, and since I have been on a limited food regimen of late, the temptations they offered on their banquet table after the presentation were nearly inescapable. But I was able to restrain and eat sensibly.

But back to the culture wars, which I will tell you should be the culture joys … if you’re getting sucked up into the hidden agendas of bigotry under the guise of immigration, entitlement programs and just general fussiness about human-kind, may I suggest that you consider this four-step process to turn your wars into joys? Last night, when I looked out at that audience, I thought to myself:

1. We share so much in common that it will be fun to explore our differences. It’s not the other way around–it’s not that we’re so different that we need to explore our commonalities. I have been with people of every culture, and the basic need for humor, heart, soul, thinking and nourishment is present within each.

2. NoOne is better than anyone else, which means NoOne is worse than anyone else. It also means that NoOne is more colorful than anyone else and includes that NoOne is smarter than anyone else, which certainly leads to NoOne is dumber than anyone else.

3. No teachers. All students. One of the more ridiculous aspects of culture wars is the notion that certain races of people have been given an advantage in arenas of life, and for that purpose they’ve been placed in the world to teach. It’s just ridiculous. We’re all students. The minute you start thinking that you’re a teacher of humanity, your sheer arrogance will forbid anyone from receiving your message. Just sitting down in front of those lovely folks and sharing my little dab of talent last night, I felt no need to be the boss or the brilliant of the night. I learned as much from them as they learned from me, because we were all in the classroom.

4.  And finally, understanding is something that people need to give to us–never anything we  can demand. I don’t know what the answer is to immigration, but I do know two things: (a) you can’t stop it; and (b) since you can’t stop it, find a way to make it profitable. It reminds me of the first person who looked at Niagara Falls and said, “We need to find a way to put that water to work.” The next thing you know, we got electricity.  You can either look at the immigration question and say, “We need to close our borders,” or you can say, “Since our borders are open, how can we channel this energy to make America more productive?”

Beware of those who believe in a culture war. There is no culture war–just a lot of people pushing and shoving to prove they’re supreme over one another. I have perched myself in California in the middle of a human smorgasbord–and brought my fork and spoon. I am prepared to be a part of the culture joys.

Because you can try to fight against nature, but Mother Nature always has a way of spanking her unruly children.

**************

Below is the first chapter of Jonathan Richard Cring’s stunning novel entitled Preparing a Place for Myself—the story of a journey after death. It is a delicious blend of theology and science fiction that will inspire and entertain. I thought you might enjoy reading it. After you do, if you would like to read the book in its entirety, please click on the link below and go to our tour store. The book is being offered at the special price of $4.99 plus $3.99 shipping–a total of $8.98. Enjoy.

http://www.janethan.com/tour_store.htm

Sitting One

 I died today. 

I didn’t expect it to happen.  Then again, I did—well, not really.

No, I certainly didn’t expect it.

I’ve had moments of clarity in my life.  Amazingly enough, many of them were in the midst of a dream. For a brief second I would know the meaning of life or the missing treatment to cure cancer.  And then as quickly as it popped into my mind it was gone. I really don’t recollect dying.  Just this unbelievable sense of clear headedness—like walking into a room newly painted and knowing by the odor and brightness that the color on the wall is so splattering new that you should be careful not to touch it for fear of smearing the design. The greatest revelation of all? 

Twenty-five miles in the sky time ceases to exist.

The planet Pluto takes two hundred and forty-eight years to circle the sun. It doesn’t give a damn. 

The day of my death was the day I became free of the only burden I really ever had.  TIME.

Useless.

Time is fussy.  Time is worry. 

Time is fear.  Time is the culprit causing human-types to recoil from pending generosity. 

There just was never enough time. 

Time would not allow it.  Remember—“if time permits …”

Why if time permits?  Why not if I permit?  Why not if I dream?  Why not if I want?  Why does time get to dictate to me my passage? 

It was time that robbed me of my soulful nature.    It was time that convinced me that my selfishness was needed. 

I didn’t die. The clock in me died, leaving spirit to tick on.  

So why don’t we see the farce of time?  Why do we allow ourselves to fall under the power of the cruel despot?  Yes, time is a relentless master—very little wage for much demand.

I died today. 

Actually … a piece of time named after me was cast away.

To Freak the Meek… April 18, 2012

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A philosophy is not a collection of ideas we would pursue if the world were a better place. A philosophy is a lifestyle we live because the world is NOT a better place.

The meek shall inherit the earth.” It is not a wish or a whim. The meek are those individuals who are left standing at the end of each and every day after the rest of the inhabitants of the planet ridicules, bloodies and murders one another. We proclaim we’re against bullying, yet we insist that aggressive behavior is rewarded with benefit.

Let’s get something straight. There are no human beings who are naturally passive. None. All of us have two festering fragments of fussiness rattling around in our brains all the time, ready to spew venom when given the exact amount of provocation. (a) “I don’t want you in my face;” and (b) “I don’t need you in my space.”

With that in mind, I am often amazed that there aren’t more fights, wars, deaths and destruction. The natural human being does show some restraint, however–otherwise there would just be a silent planet littered with corpses. So how can we change restraint into resolve? Restraint is what we do when we’re trying to be noble, biting our lip the whole time to keep from flying off the handle. Resolve is a secret we have which feeds us with the patience to know that our path will take us to success.

Christianity has failed because its basic principle of “love your neighbor as yourself” has now been traded back into the spiritual pawn shop to retrieve an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.” What set Jesus apart from the rest of religion is now considered to be a “nice idea”–but a failed project. It’s because we will not recognize the enemies–there are two of them. The enemies of the meek are conservatives and liberals. While we jockey in this country to see which party is going to take authority over our government, we fail to understand that both of them are poison to human progress.

“The meek shall inherit the earth”–as long as they don’t insist on being either conservative or liberal. The meek win because they DO love their neighbor as themselves and they reject the conservatives and liberals, who in their own ways, protest such a notion.

If you decide to stop fighting against life and God and the planet around you, the conservatives will be very upset with you. All conservatives everywhere desire an enemy. It is not an enemy they wish to love, but rather, target–blaming this entity for all the foulness on the planet. He is often embodied in the personage of Lucifer–the devil–or just “darkness.” So every conservative is constantly trying to find little pieces of that evil in everyone they meet, or create fellowship with other conservatives based upon the notion that such a singular, nefarious force exists. Just talk in front of a group of conservative people and tell them that the worst devil lives inside of them. You will soon find that they will do what conservatives always do, which is find means to attack your character. The reason we need the meek is because conservatives use the personal attack and it takes someone of great fortitude, insight, humor and gentleness to walk away from the lies instead of retaliating.

Liberals, on the other hand, don’t care much about whether your character matches up with theirs or not. They refer to that as diversity. They think they’re better than conservatives because they’re more open in their acceptance of others–except in one area. They expect you to embrace knowledge as the ultimate solution to all of mankind’s problems. In other words, what we lack is education. (This is certainly proven by the fact that college campuses tend to be great centers of compassion, human understanding and discovery of ways to get along–rather than party schools, sources of over-indulgence and prideful oracles of accumulated information.) Yes, a liberal will attack your lack of education or intelligence, or try to find a way of proving that you’re against knowledge. So some conservative commentator like Sean Hannity will cast a jaundiced eye towards a liberal based upon his approval of an unacceptable, perceived evil behavior, while a Bill Maher, on the other hand, will make fun of spiritual people because they hold fast to “Bible stories,” trying to make them look like country bumpkins or imbeciles.

What is the job of the meek? Refrain from the insane. 

If you find a crowd of people rallying behind something, I will guarantee you their cause is already out-dated or ill-founded. The heart of God is always a still, small voice–whispered in your ear rather than shouted from the holy hills of Jerusalem.

What can I do to be a meek individual, even though I might be treated as a freak? Yes, what are the things to accomplish today in my life that will help me maintain the meekness that grants me the deed to the earth?

1. Stop denying or excusing my human behavior. As I said, we all want people to stay out of our face and out of our space. We would also rather make excuses for failing than plans for winning. The secret to life is understanding, finding your angle, trying, repenting. That’s it. Don’t give up on truth just because you find yourself the only one on your block who’s chasing it.

2. You cannot be a conservative or a liberal and be meek. Both camps demand that you reject meekness from time to time to attack the other side. Neither conservatives nor liberals are either my friends or my enemies. They are just people who like to clump together and find comfort in numbers. I don’t require that. I believe that “do unto others as you would have them do unto you” translates more efficiently as “NoOne is better than anyone else.” And believe you me, that statement separates the men from the boys.

3. Silence should be the natural state when we don’t know what we’re talking about. Americans are so afraid to be without an opinion that we borrow them from other people. This is how bad ideas get started and are sustained. If I don’t know how to help a situation, I refuse to have an opinion on it. It’s useless. I am here to edify, not critique.

4. And finally, loneliness is underrated. Even though we portray being lonely as a negative, most of us will admit that we’ve made some of our better decisions in a quiet room by ourselves. When I hear yelling, I exit. When I hear doctrines being espoused as truth, I quietly slip away. And when people are sure they are right, I am sure they are wrong. There’s a time to be lonely–because in that solitude, we once again honor the notion that we are not alone, our feelings are not superior and there are others who live on this globe with us.

Be careful. There is a campaign by both conservatives and liberals to make the American populace feisty and angry. It has never worked before and this new incarnation will also end up dead on arrival. Meekness is an inclination which leads to an action, insisting that we love our neighbor as ourselves.

It may take an hour; it may take a day. It may take your lifetime.

But the meek always win.

The meek always inherit the earth.

**************

Below is the first chapter of Jonathan Richard Cring’s stunning novel entitled Preparing a Place for Myself—the story of a journey after death. It is a delicious blend of theology and science fiction that will inspire and entertain. I thought you might enjoy reading it. After you do, if you would like to read the book in its entirety, please click on the link below and go to our tour store. The book is being offered at the special price of $4.99 plus $3.99 shipping–a total of $8.98. Enjoy.

http://www.janethan.com/tour_store.htm

Sitting One

 I died today. 

I didn’t expect it to happen.  Then again, I did—well, not really.

No, I certainly didn’t expect it.

I’ve had moments of clarity in my life.  Amazingly enough, many of them were in the midst of a dream. For a brief second I would know the meaning of life or the missing treatment to cure cancer.  And then as quickly as it popped into my mind it was gone. I really don’t recollect dying.  Just this unbelievable sense of clear headedness—like walking into a room newly painted and knowing by the odor and brightness that the color on the wall is so splattering new that you should be careful not to touch it for fear of smearing the design. The greatest revelation of all? 

Twenty-five miles in the sky time ceases to exist.

The planet Pluto takes two hundred and forty-eight years to circle the sun. It doesn’t give a damn. 

The day of my death was the day I became free of the only burden I really ever had.  TIME.

Useless.

Time is fussy.  Time is worry. 

Time is fear.  Time is the culprit causing human-types to recoil from pending generosity. 

There just was never enough time. 

Time would not allow it.  Remember—“if time permits …”

Why if time permits?  Why not if I permit?  Why not if I dream?  Why not if I want?  Why does time get to dictate to me my passage? 

It was time that robbed me of my soulful nature.    It was time that convinced me that my selfishness was needed. 

I didn’t die. The clock in me died, leaving spirit to tick on.  

So why don’t we see the farce of time?  Why do we allow ourselves to fall under the power of the cruel despot?  Yes, time is a relentless master—very little wage for much demand.

I died today. 

Actually … a piece of time named after me was cast away.

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