It hadn't been 3 minutes since she slammed the door going out leaving me without even saying goodbye when the wineglass I thought was near the sink when I went to set it down was not and when it let go it crashed to the floor. It wasn't just any old wineglass either it was a special glass made by a glass artist who had signed and numbered it and sold versions like it for hundreds of dollars. He'd given it to me for my birthday two of them in fact and the other had already broken and now both of them had broken and my marriage was too. I went to bed and cried.
I need to save my life here by writing something. I need to convince the person standing over me with a gun that she should spare my life. What can I say that can do that...think, think, think...I could say PLEASE DON'T KILL ME." Maybe that would work. Somehow I don't think so, especially if she's a robot with no feelings. I'm not sure. I've not seen her before. She appeared at my door holding a clipboard saying she wanted to ask me a few questions and would I mind if she came in the house to do that. She was so small and unintimidating that I thought nothing of letting come inside. Once she was inside though she pulled a gun from inside her coat and said that if I didn't tell her something she hadn't heard before she was going to kill me.
I used to look at you,
with so much passion and so much love,
I used to tell myself,
how would life be without you?
I used to look at the stars,
so shiny and burning bright in the late night sky and smiled while you are in my thoughts,
I remembered how you used to pamper me till late at night,
and told me how much you loved me,
and i remember how i used to tell you that,
Our love is infinite and that I loved you to the stars and back.
Satan has a heated blanket for you, and a turkey sandwich with potatoes and gravy. He is lowering his blanket over your fatigued head and it is melting down around your shoulders. Stop typing. Stop working. Throw yourself onto his cushy couch. Sip the...
Throw that blanket in the fire! Toss that plate of death to the dogs! You are tired and cold, and what's it to you? Step into the discomfort. Embrace the hate. Shake the fatigue. Your tasks are righteous and authentic. Your journey is important. People may be waiting for you. People may not remember you at all. But when you are finished with your task thing they will all remember your grandiose Lord. They will brush clean a space on the street and kneel their legs, lowering their torsos to the appropriate height for a long needed prayer. People are thirsty for devotion and they don't even know it. The work you are doing will remind them of their thirst. But it is cold and hungry work. So what's it to you?