Typewriter in the sky

My keyboard. I've missed you so much! I miss tapping out the pains and humors of everyday life on your unimaginatively off white, soldiers heads. My own version of Whack-a-mole. The familiar markings on their helmets, remind me that in apparent chaos, their remains an order, that sometimes, only the Great Creator may understand. Perhaps "The Type Writer in the sky", by L. Ron Hubbard summed it up in a sci-fi sort of way, but I got it.The writer was weaving a believable , marketable plot, unaware his characters were living , breathing beings at the mercy of plot formulation, whose world would go into upheaval each time he put white-out to page. Leaving the great question, if we were made in Gods image, are our creations just practice for a higher calling, are they too, real worlds that we toy with unawares? Or is more MATRIX? A program imitating the life we'd have had, if we were to have escaped the fate at the hands of our own flawed creations, that made the decision, based on our own flawed programming skills, to turn the tables.

My life has gone through many chaotic upheavals of late. But as my mother always says, things happen for a reason, and, something good always comes out of seemingly tragic events. That eventually, the truth is revealed. That is, if your not dumb enough to think that emotional pain, or a momentary lapse of reason is worth snuffing out your own fire. It's not the end of the world until you say it is. If you study Tarot, you will know that the Death card always heralds new beginnings. Merely an end of old ways, out-dated relationships rotting away anyway, Failing business ventures replaced by fresher, more clever thinking. Sometimes you're faced with the decision; Die of gangrene, or lop off the offensive appendage and go on without it slowing you down and making you ill. I say, give me the cleavers and I'll do it myself. For everything, there is a time to die. For me, it's this relationship. It makes me miserable. I want my life back, and he won't give it to me, so I will have to take it, all the way to Palimony court if needs be. Let's hope he rethinks his selfishness and makes it an amicable split.

I can't take any more fried dinners, smelly work boots, and being broke, while watching him insult me, use me for a whipping post and a doormat. I will not allow him to his spoils of ten years of my life. I deserve what is mine, and part of this place is.

10/11/2007 2:5 PM

ps~ I CAN"T GET INTO MY ACCOUNT!!!