Batten down the hatches

A point of no return? A return to a sane state , a state of sanity. We all once fondly knew what it was, could be. Can be again. Called something akin to sense and sensibility, common sense. Sense in the true. Sense of the word and of the world. Of one’s inner world. As it related to connectivity, inter-connectively. But not this way. not the way it is now. We have never been more dis-connected as a human race running the human race.

”Lead, follow, or get out of the way”

Step up or step out because a narrowly focused point forces the fact we may all go down with the ship. Prepare for trouble?—Too late—because it is already here. Haven’t you noticed? Goodness gracious. What have you been doing with your time?

Use of force, essential this, essential that, all a play on words we cannot collectively afford. The narrow circumstances, splitting hairs of the hair is the lack of sense if one asks me.

Sadly. Nobody did ask. And now we are here. We can only hope— that maybe they did ask and no one heard the herd?

I have serious doubts. Hiding behind a baby, a calf is a cheap shot. And further,

Please. At the very least, have an iota of respect to also not throw down the GOD card at this juncture. How desperate are you really? Or, are you simply……bored. That is your problem or is that your problem. Do you have a problem? A consumption problem? The air around you too think? Too thin?

The dog card has been played, chewed up and spit out. Shame on those who played that card. Have you no shame at all? Dogs give. Selfish humans the ones who created that mess, gobble and take. And the dogs obliged the humans with no words at all. Sick. Really. Doesn’t have to be in any fantastical world. Sick is as sick does. Sick is sick.

What is it—once the cash is gone, the problem is gone? Clearly. Not true. A “fix”, a remedy—only for the moment. No amount of consideration can change a farce from a farce to a fact. A consumption consideration. A Pipe dream? Gotta realistically admit, the humane plusses of dogs. Plus. Dogs instinctively know how to keep their heads above water. Can you say the same about yourself, and your inner most thoughts.

Because the game being played out on the fields of dreams now is one of “Red rover, red rover, let crazy come over” or. Not. A padded room, isolation, with others who “think” like you over there, those who do not, over there. Or. You could always,

“Jump” as in “Jump ship”.

Lead, follow, or get out of the way.

While the scope is narrowing rapidly, best make a decision sooner rather than later about what you are gonna do. While there is still an ounce of choice left in your hand. Because when you awake tomorrow, or the next day—hopefully not that soon—the landscape will look quite different. One you most likely will not recognize. One you may walk head first into and “coink” yourself right between the eyes. Shaking your head fiercely like a dogs shakes off a gnat.

Preying and praying are two ways to operate…..to skin a cat. Cats are not my cup of tea, however, I do not want to interact with anything remotely or otherwise related to hurting them. Let them be. At the same time, why do they NOT let the rest of us be? Just be.

They don’t call the cats and dogs rivalry a “thing” for nothing…..They are not friends, not even unlikely friends. They do not work well together, never have, never will. So.

Call it what it is. Call it a spade. A spade is a spade. And move along. Move on. It is impossible to work together. And will not work. “Forget about it.” Like Squints said. “Forget about it”. It is not an option.

It is not an option. A fantasy. Maybe. Pretend? Yup and Yep. A facade, a farce—to say the least. So day dream about the possibilities all you like. Your mind, for now, is still yours. WARNING and REMINDER: Drifting off may cause you to drift right off the side of the ship……without a wooden, plastic or BPA free paddle to save you.

Lead, follow or get outta the way.

Why not continue the preference, to prefer to continue to exist in the real world called Reality. No. Not as in, my own little world, that is a rule of the game in the Red Rover, Red Rover game…. Not a card I play, not a game I play. Narrowing the focus does have its “plusses”. Those plusses are called: Reality.

My report cards says so. Call me weird. My weird abilities allow me to work along side most anyone or anything, unlikely or likely. Except.

A cat.

Disclaimer: Tigers, Lions are not considered “cats” in the catty sense of the human world, in the wishful, weird fantastical sense. They exist as mature individuals fully capable of decision making for their own survival of and for their pride. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

Before it becomes too late that is. Like the Pipe Dream:As in: Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em. Most every single human, every single person uses and with little admission probably needs a vice. Right now more than ever. The cats are circling. And it ain’t pretty. End result. Smoking your own wooden leg could become the only option.

Ouch.

A group for this and a group for that. AA, AARP, etcetera, etcetera, CC, CCD, CDC. A right of passage of “success, mastery, completion if graduation occurs from one to the other is considered “successful”?

Depends on what is left behind in and behind the “wake”. In the body of the swampy water left behind. Saturated and decomposed beyond recognition. Perhaps now you wish you had chosen to or had “Jumped Ship”.

Broken promises floating along side you for “support” of the remains of a body once strong and mighty.

Lead, follow, or get out of the way.

Patterns and flows, blows and bows. All have significant meaning in a real world. In Reality. And it is called:

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

“Try it. You’ll like it.” .. “Mikey” said in the old timer Cheerios commercial advertisements from the 70’s, 80’s or 90’s. Cannot remember exactly. I forgot.

What I do recall, retrieve and remember is. The phrase became a cultural phenomenon. Fantastical. Maybe. Pretend? Yep and Yup. A farce, a facade.

Nope.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

Try it. You’ll like it.

Cheerio.