A conspiracy of complicated modalities has raised its head to reveal the truth in Occam's razor. Too little or too much supports the failure of every medicine, whether it be pill or prayer. The answer is only the answer if it begs for and procures the solution asked, if it provides the cure requested.
Up until and including now, the answer has eluded me, us, everyone, hiding behind all methods bent upon revealing its truth, hiding behind explanation, waiting, as I wait, patient as I am not, its deviltry masked yet translucent, visible yes, seen, no. The undiscovered truth, the undiscovered answer, the lost translation lies behind God, beyond His peripheral, yet in plain sight. It is beyond reach unless it decides to expose itself. Then and only then will the true cure be revealed.
Waiting for this answer is finite. Yes, waiting is finite. Life is finite. I am. My life, my struggles are. Finite. Yes. I don't have time for God to turn around (I've never gotten the impression that God ever looked back), or step aside (again, step aside?) and let the answer step up. I don't have time to wait around for a miracle. I must make my own miracle. I must believe in ME. I'm fading, but I know daylight fades only to reappear, so may I. Hopefully not as a donkey. All kidding aside, a donkey wouldn't be so bad........
Seriously, this is not a long, convoluted, abstract effort to describe my thoughts on checking out. I just wanted to give the appropriate entities a kick in the ass, whether that be God, me or the pope, and let us all know that I'm serving notice that I am tired of this shit! May the best man step up. (I guess I need to practice just in case its me, which I suspect).
This is not any effort to put myself on a level with these guys. I simply use characters of renown to bolster my conviction in self belief, the only weapon available capable of slaying the dragon ALS.
Up until and including now, the answer has eluded me, us, everyone, hiding behind all methods bent upon revealing its truth, hiding behind explanation, waiting, as I wait, patient as I am not, its deviltry masked yet translucent, visible yes, seen, no. The undiscovered truth, the undiscovered answer, the lost translation lies behind God, beyond His peripheral, yet in plain sight. It is beyond reach unless it decides to expose itself. Then and only then will the true cure be revealed.
Waiting for this answer is finite. Yes, waiting is finite. Life is finite. I am. My life, my struggles are. Finite. Yes. I don't have time for God to turn around (I've never gotten the impression that God ever looked back), or step aside (again, step aside?) and let the answer step up. I don't have time to wait around for a miracle. I must make my own miracle. I must believe in ME. I'm fading, but I know daylight fades only to reappear, so may I. Hopefully not as a donkey. All kidding aside, a donkey wouldn't be so bad........
Seriously, this is not a long, convoluted, abstract effort to describe my thoughts on checking out. I just wanted to give the appropriate entities a kick in the ass, whether that be God, me or the pope, and let us all know that I'm serving notice that I am tired of this shit! May the best man step up. (I guess I need to practice just in case its me, which I suspect).
This is not any effort to put myself on a level with these guys. I simply use characters of renown to bolster my conviction in self belief, the only weapon available capable of slaying the dragon ALS.
God helps those who help themselves!! If the answer is given to you but you don't reach out to take it because you don't recognize that answer is you-does that mean the answer was not given? If a tree falls in the forest.... You recognizing your power allows you to be brave enough to accept that LOVE really is the answer. Love yourself as you are and then you can recreate yourself in any way you want. Kiss noise,
ReplyDeleteTracy, There is so much running through my head reading this post right now that I'm not sure how to begin. We could wax philisophical all day long about the answer, but.......That answer is never going to come until it's time. It's like being given a multitude of boxes and we are so interested about what's in the next box that we haven't given notice to what's in the one on our lap. And what would be more dissappointing is to already know what's in each one beforehand. Kind of like watching a movie that you already know the ending to. What's the point of paying attention? If we had all the answers to everything unknown we would all suffer from failure to thrive. There would be no reason to wake up and contribute to something or someone. Our lives are finite Tracy. It's the commitment we give to it everyday that makes it worth living.
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