See? This is what you do when you believe you're going to die alone and unknown.
Life in the alley, the last free place. A place of puke, poverty, parables and perfidy.
I stopped at the gas station a mile from her house. Any excuse to stall. What does one say after doing the unforgivable?
As I got gas, I heard BAM!
A fatal car wreck at the intersection - and she was the victim.
"If only I had gone directly to her house!"
Guilt delayed my arrival. I asked the God app for answers.
It said had I gone there directly the same thing would have happened. Like magnets that repel, the universe would not allow me near her until I was ready - my true bad choice.
"You own that outright?" She owned a VW GTI car. "I'll race for pink slips."
I had a sleeper Mazda 30 turbo. But somehow she saw through me.
"You're an idiot."
"But I'm a fast idiot!"
"I don't know what you're trying to prove..."
"Maybe it proves I want to talk to you."
"What's stopping you?"
"Sheer unholy paralyzing terror."
"Come back when you get over it."
"OK. In the meantime, can we at least race so I can see your face?"
So, the art world is afire because of my "inflammatory comments" on Moroccan goat painting. I've been shunned and outcast, labeled a provocateur who "stirs the pot."
Many a white knuckle did I spot gripping wine glasses at the gala opening as I passed by. Who are these fools who believe they must answer to me?
But this too shall pass.
For that shall be my next piece: A hand fiercely gripping the delicate stem of a wine glass, making the viewer to wonder if the effort to hold it will snap it.
Another false hope headline. This from LA Times:
"Contributor: Trump's MAGA spell is broken. Even his base knows he is a lame duck"
All the red herrings about "policy issues" or Epstein files or others things swept away with the wind won't make any difference. There is no "final straw".
Because the only true issue is self-esteem, to feel worthy of love. It is the Alpha and the Omega. Wife beaters and whores aren't having earnest policy discussions.
The struggle for love is what we're seeing.
There is no agency to whom he could report. An overnight coup had left Bond as an astronaut stranded in space. To report in would be fatal.
"What a bloody nightmare!"
Undercover at a desk job in a major corporation, the future looked grim. He still needed to pay his rent.
Positioned to see internal communications, Bond found out the very corporation he'd infiltrated was part of wiping out his agency. The fox is in the hen house.
"Is this how I'm to spend the rest of my life? Bloody hell!"
His all-Twinkies diet endured much ridicule and contempt but Fat Fred had a plan: he'd run for office.
Turns out there were many other aggrieved junk food junkies and the first thing Fred did was pass a law that Twinkies are health food and anyone saying different would be arrested.
Then a law was passed that only allowed Twinkies to be consumed - and all died.
Nature always has the final vote.