Singing In The Rain.

Hello, and good morning. How's it going?   Me, I am okay. I am up early, but have nothing to blog about as usual. It doesn't always stop me though.

One thing I thought of is if you read this you see what is inside of me. Inside me is the truth of life. Inside me is the wilderness,  and inside me is a sword.

I pretty much write the same type of stuff,  cuz that is what it is like to look inside me. I've done this a while. I can't give a History of this thing cuz we are approaching 1800 entries,  and I don't reread any of them. I used to every once in a while, but I care less and less.

There isn't much to me anymore besides what you see inside. The wilderness and the sword. I live out my days pretty care free, cuz that is my gift for my labor to date.

I am done except for the suffering so to speak. After I become the best a person can be. I'll have understanding, and that is the end days.

There is no future in this life. There never was. It all ends in death. It always has. Cave men didn't do less important stuff than you. They pretty much work,  ate, and slept. Their work was getting food most likely,  but people do make advances. Advances always "seem" like advances, but they aren't always,  and maybe in the grand scheme they aren't anyway. We still are headed for our grave, and it don't matter what we dress up as.

Anyhoo,  I know my story,  and we don't know your story. You tried to create one based on stuff you see inside the World. My story pretty much started when I saw there was nothing here for me.

Life pulled, I listened. There was so much else though. I threw everything away. Upbringing and learning. It wasn't hard, cuz in life you learn a lot of shit, and you accept a lot of stuff just cuz.

In this World you think wrongly there are Saints. They aren't here. We are not them. We can be made into one, but your sacrifices and labors won't bring you there.

When the truth came knocking on your door you would have none of it. You had too many other things to do.

Still you head to your grave. Even if you still have all these things to do.

Told you inside me is not really a joke. I have a happy heart though although my message may be tough. Why??  It's my gift. My labor is what is in my heart,  and my heart was placed in good hands long ago. Pretty much the night after I gave up.

My job is way too much for me to handle on my own,  and I sense there is very little to me anymore anyway.

Just this day to day.

Okee dokee.

Cya.