Undertaker's Daughter

My life and death as spiritual path.

Location: River City, Northern California

Thursday, May 19, 2005

Another Wretched Addendum

Concerning This is Not a Poem.

It wasn't, it was a -- damned if I know--

It was and is the truth about my life and now that I think about it, the truth about the lifes of most of my friends.

Maybe I just have unfortunate friends, I know my luck is seriously tarnished and always has been in a topsy-turvy way.

Give her lots of money, make her hate it, and lose it, you must know the syndrome. Give her tons of good health take it away in one fell swoop, well, not enough to be serious, just eradicate quality of life to the bone. Give her teaspoons of meaning and relevance where there used to be quarts and bushels.

That kind of luck-- I'm used to it, but not at this velocity. I know I'm older-- 60-- maybe that's the only answer, it's the velocity of life at the end passages.

I'm not sure. I don't think so. Or not entirely. I have this feeling I'm being toughened up in as kind a way as possible. It's dreadful and exhausting but not without compassion.

Does god truly understand how Tired we get??? How utterly worn-out?

What I'd like to know-- in a world where I'm speaking, but no one is listening-- is are there anymore out there like me?

And what are we being toughened up for?

No End-of-the-Worlders need apply. Sorry.


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