Day 2 In Yuma

The title to this days blog kinda sounds like a western novel or movie or something, don’t it?

Uh oh, wayward tangent alert!

Here’s some more “titles” (while I’m increasing my caffeine levels) Yes, I know…I’m a terrible Mormon.

“The Watch” A fast paced movie about minute to minute time travel.

“Coffee Man” A novel about love and survival

“Loading….” A sci-fi mystery about patience and murder.

“Potty Break” Action “packed” cinematic dynamite, edge of your “seat”, “explosive” thriller about letting go…

Ok, I’m gonna stop now, I can see where this is going.

Speaking of potty break…..

BRB

Ok, I’m back. The Potty Break movie had a weak “ending”…..no real substance.

Ok Ok, I’ll stop!

What has gotten in to me so early this Tuesday morning!?

It IS Tuesday, right?

I don’t know what day it is. My phone is off….and I don’t know how to find it on my baby iPad.

Ok, I just figured out that my gps knows what day it is.

It’s Monday Jr?

WTH?!

That can’t be right.

Wayward tangent alert, again….

I just realized that I’ll probably never hold a leadership position in my church because I “may” have used inappropriate language in MANY of my previous blogs.

I kinda cuss when I’m being all emotional and creative….

In my defense, and y’all know this just as much, if not more than me…

Sometimes a dirty word is the only word that can work in certain instances. It takes one to get the EXACT point across: to match the flow of our literary intent….

Or, we (I) couldn’t think of a better word.

In my defense, I only have 33 credit hrs of college. In Texas….

Lets go with the creative juices thing….

Yeah, I’m a Cro-Magnon.

Sometimes I say bad words, think bad things, contemplate mass murder…or is it spree murder?

Hey, you try being a truck driver that goes all over this country, thru tiny towns and big cities and tell me that you don’t feel like running someone off the road!

Good thing is that I can keep fantasy, fantasy. Realistically, speaking….

It’s much more cool in my head; the fantasy part.

I could never kill in real life with the same satisfaction or special effects that I do in my head.

In fantasy dream mode (ok, pretend you’re seeing that daydream thing like they do on tv, with the wavy screen)

Ok, in dream mode, when I kill someone on the interstate (99% of the time its a 4 wheeler; car) there’s lots of screaming, rubber squealing and smoke, metal screeching & crunching, glass shattering and the smell of poop. Oh, and there’s always lots of fire & smoke, blood, guts, people flying thru windshields, the satisfying crunch as my 18 wheeler smashes thru their wrecking cars and over their pavement strewn bodies…..

*shudder in ecstasy*

It puts the lotion on it’s skin….

Thank the holy moly, but in real life, the whole “You’ll not do well in prison” filter keeps me sane.

Plus, I’d probably feel bad later.

Hold up, let me tell Jesus I’m sorry for murder in my heart.

This is my Granny’s fault; all this caring about people and crap.

Social norms…..Not killing fools.

EMPATHY for heck sakes.

Crazy old lady.

She’s the one that took me to church, taught me about Jesus, God and the Holy Ghost!

More importantly, the whole burning in hell thing if I run over people on the interstate, or undress pretty women in my head.

I’d marry them! Don’t be so quick to judge!

I’m a softie but HEY! At least I’m not a sociopath or psychopath , huh?!

That’s good news on this early Monday Jr!

Ok, I gotta go pick up some vegetables and start rolling towards F’n Jersey.

Y’all have an excellent Monday Jr.

TTYT

Nothing New, But Funny….Again….this time.

Okay…..
I took a midday nap and my brain has ceased to function in a creative state.

I am posting this story again because I like it and I’m too freaking tired from driving my big rig 700 miles today thru 40-50 mph cross-winds as I thought it prudent to try and get under the storms crossing Oklahoma before the bottom fell out and starts swirling around.

“We got debris!” (Twister movie…?)

Since some of you may be in the storm shelter for a while, you might as well read it and get a laugh.

For my old followers that have read it already, I’m sorry I didn’t have anything new….

Some of us have to work for a living.

California needs the McNugget’s I am hauling…..To earthquake country….on purpose…..

I’m tired of out-racing, out-maneuvering earthquakes, blizzards and tornadoes.

I need hazard pay…

For the new visitors that have never checked out my blog before….WELCOME.

I hope you like it….

If not, burn in hell.

I mean that with the greatest sincerity and utmost humility….

P.S LOL! Have fun!

Once again….from the mind of the world renowned 49 year old blogging prodigy….

Ouch

There are some things in this world of mine…and probably others that bother me.

I will give you a quick perspective into what I mean.

As you get older there are things on your body that begin to decline…and just plain fall off.Image

Your hair gets thinner or takes up permanent resident status with your brush, or other peoples food.

The toe nails and finger nails change their molecular structures and become….brittle and looonnggg.

Skin becomes drier and looser thus causing the application of numerous chemical compounds in order to prevent friction and/or possible fire, and the chance of causing cancer and/or addiction.

Joints pop. Back pops. Neck pops. Fingers pop. Toes pop.

Yes…I have become Sir Pops-a-Lot.

I am not obese. I am heavy of course, DUE TO THE FACT that I have no will power at all where Wendy’s or Taco Bell is concerned.

I am a genetically engineered consumer of fast foods.

A poor man that is dependant upon salt, sugar and fat…and Pepsi…and Bud Light…and…other stuff I can’t recall

I am a devotee of Yellow #5 and Mono-Sodium Glutamate.

It’s sad…I agree.

I wonder if the parts of my body that are becoming useless, saggy, or just in the way, is caused by my lifestyle?

I know it is really, but denial is all I have left that is mine.

I have also come to the realization, (for it is evident) that I am a closet Hypochondriac. I have not “come” out yet.

I get little “ghost pains” and twinges, blinks, twitches and throbbing that occur for no reason…well, you know what I mean.

I can be sitting, or standing or basically breathing when I will get one of these.

Hell…I can’t even vegetate on my couch in a potatoic repose!

Here’s what happens in my brain:

A pain in my calf: “Oh crap! I’ve got a blood clot! [No ER]

A pain in my bicep: “Holy crap! I’ve got a blood clot!” [No ER]

A pain in my right side: “Oh crap! I’ve got appendicitis…or a blood clot”! [No ER]

A pain in my left side: “Holy Shit! I’m having a heart attack!” [Think about ER]

A headache is “definitely an aneurysm”. [No ER]Image

A bad visit to Taco Bell or Wendy’s: “Holy Hannah, I’ve got E Coli #2435261!” [No toilet paper]

I am getting so tired of these little pains and hypochondriatic spells…shit falling out…falling off…hanging off and just plain unpleasant to look at, or even smell.

That’s right…smell!

There are odors that escape from my body that I KNOW can only be caused by dead or dying tissues and/or failing organs.

When a grown man reaches a point in his life that he no longer smiles at his own farts, but assumes a disgusted or even alarmed reaction to them…it’s too late.

Pepto-Bismol is a lie!!

There is no going back to 21 or 25 yrs of age.

I won’t even get into the memory lapses. Well, just this observation…

I am starting to remind myself of my grandmother (Bless her heart).

I can remember things that happened when I was 3 yrs old!! Really!

But where are the truck keys? Where’s my pen? What was I just gonna do? Did I take my medicine?

Shit…I’m gonna have a heart attack!

I used to be sexy.

Quite a handsome guy…

But…now…I look like someone else’s grandpa.

I have now looked in a mirror and actually said “Good lord Trey” and not in a religious manner either.

It’s the blood clots…I’m sure of it.

I had my first real panic attack just a short time ago, from a dead sleep…woke me up!

[Yes on the ER]

I knew I was dying…someone was trying to kill me…the room was getting smaller…I couldn’t breathe!…”Where’s my damn socks!” Chaos…

All my blood clots were finally breaking loose! It was terrible.

I’ve never had a panic attack before. It lasted about 6 hrs. That is technically not an attack…it is a siege.

This only happen’s to old women right?

Great…I’ve turned into an old lady.

Only cost a million dollars at the ER.

Thank GOD! I had insurance…my co-pay was only $300,000

• Blood test (6 tubes!)

• Standard chest x-ray

• Oxygen tube in my nose

• Got ran through the big machine that spins around and around…the people behind the screen say…”Hold your breath now!” 20 minutes later…”Now breathe”…then Vanna claps…Pat claps…Imageand I spin the Bankrupt…

And all I got from the hospital was a bottle of water. No pill no shot…anything to stop whatever was happening to me. I was freaking out!!

But, they didn’t worry about the poor old guy with all his shit falling off. They just ran me through all the tests during a panic attack and didn’t tell me anything! For 6 hrs!!!

The only saving grace was the x-rays were clear…

My vitals and juices were up to snuff.

And mostly…no blood clots. (I did ask them to check for me while I was there)

I think they lied though. I still get the little ghost pains.

How long does it take for a blood clot to form?

Oh….Something else that I want to get into real quick while I’m thinking about it….

There are lots of wonderful people in the world.

They are kind, considerate and empathetic.

They are sensitive to another’s needs and quick to offer advice when needed.

There is only one problem though:

They mean well.

Let me explain the folly of these good intentions.

If you paid any attention to the above, you are aware of my…problem.

Like I have stated; I am a victim of Hypochondriatic Paranoia (to be referred to henceforth as HP). I made up the word because it seems to cover the entire spectrum and endless parameters of my “condition”. Those ailments that have happened…are happening or are going to happen.

It is a total figment of my imagination and I’m cool with that.

I am a firm believer that if it can be thought of…it can happen. I am also one year away from my 50th birthday and have come to except the fact that I am not as spry or young as I used to be.

I’m just glad it hasn’t affected my handsomeness or animal magnetism.

It’s not the roads I traveled…it’s the miles baby!

Here is a scenario for y’all…tell me if this has happened to you.

You are explaining to a friend or acquaintance that you have a newly discovered ailment.

We do that sort of thing after 40.

Weather…Politics…ailments.

That’s what we talk about.

Anyways…

After you explain the chronology, biology, incubation, and personification of said ailment, your friend looks concerned. Even makes sympathetic overtures and comforts you.

Then…just as soon as they have convinced you it’s not all that bad…

They do it! They can’t help it….Image

They either have had the same ailment (only much worse of course) or know someone or even knew someone that had something like you described.

Unfortunately the one they “knew” has passed away, but they don’t know if that particular ailment was the cause of it.

HP scale 1-10? ….5

They start describing the ailment.

The only problem is that for victims of HP, every time they describe a freaking symptom it is instantly locked into our minds as if though it’s been there the whole…damn…time!!

“Hell yeah…it’s happening right now!” “Damn, I didn’t notice that particular symptom, but now that you’ve described it…”

HP scale 1-10?…7

Holy Shit!

As this nice person keeps explaining the several different variations, symptoms and related diseases that can, has or might cause this ailment…shit that I’m definitely gonna Google, The HP enters its infectious stage.

I begin to feel the pain in my left side. I can feel a blood clot forming in my leg. The very thing that this person is explaining as a possible cause for my ailment begins to fester and become chronic….becomes real.

HP scale 1-10?…9

You don’t do that to victims of HP!

Don’t explain your related ailments then add big scientific names to them!

And for God Sakes don’t tell them the symptoms or what to check for!

They’ll never leave the freaking house!

My insurance won’t even begin to cover me for the things I “think” are wrong with my dumb ass!

WebMD is a drug for victims of HP. It was created just for us. We are the life blood of pharmaceutical companies!

We are the trail blazers in the Land of Pharmacopeia!

We suffer so that mankind can prosper and be symptom free…

Now, while I’m sitting here in my truck writing this, I can feel that my varicose vein is throbbing and feels hot to the touch. My left shoulder is tight and feels hot. I think I’m getting a toothache…my cheek feels hot.

HP scale 1-10?…10

Why would y’all do that to me?

You know I suffer from HP. If you have an ailment that seems to match the symptoms of any of mine…don’t tell me.

Just say something like “Oh, you’re full of shit Trey, there’s nothing wrong with you…you’re too young and handsome to have problems like that”.

ImageIs that too much to ask?

I know you mean well…but humor the crazy person.

Please?

Talk From Tucumcari

I am parked in Tucumcari, New Mexico.Image

I am back to driving all 48 states and Canada (Coming for you Quiall!)

I am so tired my eyeballs just fell out….

Please forgive me if this is sort of rambling…

Just wondering away….

As I drive around this beautiful country of ours it’s needless to say that I have lots of time and miles to do nothing but let my mind wander to and fro about life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

Not really…I spend a lot of that time munching on Cheetos, listening to audio books, radio classics, ESPN and trying to find an unobservable place to pee.

Happiness achieved…

I have a little notepad to jot things down when I think of something I’d like to write about.

 I heard or read somewheres that all writers or authors worth their salt have a little pad of their own for just such inspirations.

I wanna be like y’all when I grow up.

….gotta get me a voice recording thingee too….

I tend to wreck my big rig if I don’t watch the road….

Ever since I became the greatest thing to hit the Land of WordPressia since the delete button I have become more interested in what people have to say thru their words and HOW they say it.

I have come to the conclusion that y’all are all a bunch of hacks and have no talent whatsoever and should be euthanized as soon as possible….

Not really….

I WUB OOO….

I am still amazed at the differing levels of talent, the range of interests and the sense of community that I have seen and been blessed to become a part of.

The followers of my blogs are a loyal bunch.

I think they all live in Scotland somewhere….

I get good advice, critiques and praise for a job well done, but not from the turkey in Vegas…..

; )

Love ya Nae Nae!

The rest of you suck! 

Except for that Yankee scum Bialczak, I dig his vibe!

Not really….I hate all Canadians and Yankees.

(smooch)

The blogs, poems, photography, poetry (is that the same thing as a poem?) subjects, feelings, opinions, stories, rants and general artistry of the contributing writers is, too put it simply, a little over-whelming for the new guy.

I have only had my blog since last July and I have 325+ followers.

I know that most of them don’t all read my stuff or even follow me anymore.

I don’t mind, maybe I am too inane for them ;P

But I love my loyal 20 followers.

The rest of you deserters can blow me!

I don’t mean that in a mean way.

The level of sophistry I have witnessed thru this blogging medium has actually increased my admiration for the authors that I adore, and appreciate the level of understanding for their commitment and craft.

I hope I’m as creative and on the ball when I’m an 87 year old like my ideal reader English professor that takes the time to teach me grammar stuff and tell me when I’m being a dink.

It’s amazing to me that people can actually stay focused on a project long enough to write a novel.

I can’t even fathom that kind of commitment…

I’m too…what’s a good word for it…?

Oh….Lazy.

The passion to create must be like a drug or sex toy or something….

Hell, I can’t stay focused long enough to…Image

Just for fun, here are my favorite books (to this point) and authors in order:

5) Stephen King (The Shining, November 22 1963, The Stand, Dr. Sleep)

4) John Grisham (A Time to Kill, A Painted House, Sycamore Row)

3) Alexander Dumas’ (The Count of Monte Cristo, The 3 Musketeers)

2) Nelson DeMille, David Baldacci or Jack Higgins (I just like spy novels)

1) Charles Dickens/John Steinbeck (David Copperfield, Grapes of Wrath)

**Honorable mention Miguel De Cervantes and the immortal “Don Quixote”

When I start to get too big for my britches I will think Of Chuck Dickens’ and Steinbeck’s God like talents… and think “See Trey, you really do suck” then I’ll kill myself and be famous like Hemingway (what a loss)

I promise I won’t kill myself…God! Y’all are so needy….

Not really….

If I could ever be the shadow of a pimple on Dickens’ ass, I would be a happy pimple.

I’ll be happy if I’m as good as Jack London….that’s not too much to hope for!

Dare to dream…..

It is wondrous to see the true gift of human thought….What can be thought up, can be created.

In ANY form…..like a paper clip or finger-nail clippers.

I am humbled by the total beauty that can be described thru the words of man or woman.

Are all writers artists?

It’s hard to say. I’m not a credible scholar or critic.   I’m not that bright…..

There are so many levels of talent and ways for people to express themselves that I don’t see how anyone can make a real guess about it.

Here’s what I say…

Anyone that uses their mind for the ADVANCEMENT of art, words, music, or even invention, with the intent of enriching the lives of others is an artist.

Tell me if I’m stretching it here.

Here is the perfect…pure artist:

A)     A 3 year old using finger paint whose art makes it to the fridge door and Mommy love’s it.

B)     The man that created the remote control for the TV

C)     Whoever came up with the idea for musical instruments and the first written word.

D)     The person who invented the stapler.

Man…I believe some things are just gifts from….well, providence I guess.

The great part is that there are so many people in the blogosphere that ‘want’ to share their talents and gifts with others without one, SINGLE, selfish intent.

I’m in it for the chicks…

Of course there are those few (millions) that like to be recognized for their work and appreciated.

Perfectly natural says narcissistic me.

I too, will accept worship and animal sacrifice…I know it’s a shock, I’m kind of high maintenance…

But you already know this…

There are others that actually don’t care if they ever become famous or even published.

They do it strictly for the release of ideas and magic….

I think blogging has opened the world to all kinds of possibilities of thought and creativity.

The immediacy in today’s world for the transmission of ideas from one crank to another is going to…wait…

I didn’t mean it like that…

PC version:  Opening up contributions and discussion from writer to reader.

Spreading the word….

Casting magic….

Oh man I just thought of this…

Fertilizing the mind with internet bullshit (Get it?)

Yeah, I didn’t think it was that funny either….

I wonder how long it took for Charles Dickens to get his first book published.

Hmmm, I might have to find a biography about him.

Let me look real quick;

That’s weird…they say he was “tragic”.

Is that the same thing as published?

Wow…I didn’t know Dickens was only 58 when he died…

Anywho… (Listen to David Copperfield at Audible.com…it’s excellent!)(Count of Monte Cristo too)

Oh, John Milton’s “Paradise Lost’ audio-book version read by Charlton Griffin is amazing!

I wonder if I will ever change the world….?

I hope one of you do….Then I can say “I knew you when…”

I get impatient with my blog, do y’all? (I mean YOUR blog smart asses! LOL!)

Everything I have read about having a successful, widely read blog preaches patience and “write every day”

If you write it they will come….

I like for people to read my stuff.

I don’t know if it’s because I love attention, but I like to write, and I like people to read it.

Is that self-serving?

God, I hope so.

Dang…now I’ve lost my chain of thought…

See what I mean about focus…?!

Hey look!

A squirrel!!Image

Homicidal Maniac !

I woke up this morning and the sun was goneImage

I turned on some music to start my day

I realized I haven’t hooked up my XM satellite yet

And I became angry……

I needed some coffee.

I wanted some Intense Energy Colombian Sumatran with a dash of Hawaiian coffee, 32 packets of artificial sweetener, a squirt of French Vanilla and 4 serving thingees of Hazelnut creamer stuff.

The only thing standing in my way was 50 yards of big rig parking lot, a Wendy’s drive thru, 20 more yards of 4 wheeler parking lot, a front door and morning people….

Still in my Zombie mode, I proceed to the truck stop store.

[Zombie walking in your mind’s eye]

I got half way across the big rig lot, said a dirty word that would make my granny get religion, turned around…..went back to my truck to get my wallet and mug.

I got my mug.

I looked for my wallet for 10 minutes.

There was no telling where I put the damn thing.

I have just moved into my new truck and my stuff is still scattered and unorganized to my specification, superstitions and/or just wanting to know where my shit is….

My wallet was in my front pants pocket…..The ones I was wearing.

I don’t want to talk about that.

I got back out of my truck, and patted myself down to make sure I had everything….

Wallet: Check

Glasses: Check

Ear infection: Check

Mug…..?

Son of a bitch!

COFFEE!!!!

I got the mug and made it thru the rain puddles, fuel spills and parking lots with no injury.

Have you ever noticed that when the wind blows into your ear while it’s infected it sounds like a sea shell with Tourettes?

I am fully aware that when I walk into a public place at 4 am that I tend to catch some people by surprise.

You see…I don’t look my best, and I could care less.Image

My hair is poking up, I am wearing my lucky BYU nite nite shirt, my lime green sweat pants (eat me) and my Navajo trading post water-proof moccasins that don’t really water-proof…..But they’re comfy and they look cool….

Besides the fact I don’t have to tie them…..

I think they’re girl moccasins now that I look at them closer….

Anyways….as I said, they’re comfy….and I like the beads.

As I said….eat me.

I mosey up to the coffee making area and begin the mixing of my desired ingredients for the ultimate Java download with extreme prejudice…

I am not fully conscious during this minute or two.Image

It’s all muscle memory….

I raise the mug to my lips….

“Good morning” says the truck stop barista woman.

The mug stops…..

My right eye twitches like Clint Eastwood in that one movie….

I blink…..

I lower the mug back onto the counter and said “What did you say?”

“How are you this morning?’ she says with a smile.

“Too early to tell” says I, looking around to see if anyone is watching us.

“I hear that!” she laughs.

She doesn’t know that I hate laughing in the morning before coffee.

She doesn’t know that before coffee and sweetener that I am a homicidal maniac.imagespsycho

But…..it is what it is.

She must die…..All morning happy people must die…..

HAIII KARATEE CHOP!!!

With the speed of a mongoose on steroids I karate chop her in the throat.

She gags…

I head butt her in the face at the same time I kick her in the balls…

She reels from my violent onslaught, a silent scream trapped in her crushed windpipe

I spin thru the air with a Chuck Norris round-house kick, separating her laughing ass head from her body.Image

As her laughing ass head flies thru the air I give it a soccer style bicycle kick, sending it spinning and twirling, bending it like Beckham into the trash can by the coffee bar.

Goooaaalll!!soccer

I whip out my 44 magnum revolver with the 7” barrel, the most powerful handgun in the world according to Clint Eastwood in that one movie, and start pumping rounds into the trash can!

BLAM!    BLAM!    BLAM!

I can still hear her laughing ass head in the trash can….harry

I begin to reload….

I blink…..

I take a sip from my mug.

“Good morning” says I.

That was weird….

Dirty Job: Another in the Lame Poem Series

Image
Handsomeness

 

Sometimes I wonder why I’m so handsome…

In a world full of plain

How can people rejoice when they wake up

And they still look the same?

How can it be that when God created me

He told the angel in charge to “Double up on his sexy”

I can’t help it when women swoon and faint

And artists beg to copy my likeness with oil and paint

It’s not my fault when I enter a room

That a hush falls across it, as if swept by a broom

I’ve gotten used to the stares and envy that dog my trail

I’ve gotten used to all the naked pics that come in the mail

It’s not my fault when I get calls late in the night

Begging me for liaisons while their husbands are locked in the closet and shake with fright

I can get a woman pregnant by just throwing my pants on her bed

I’ve made women enter an asylum when they’ve lost their head

I can’t seem to find any quiet time just for me

The needs of the many play out how it must be

I must spread my handsomeness across this great land

I must make sure I leave no woman holding out an empty hand

It’s a dirty job that’s been left up to me

To do my best to spread my sexy from sea to shining sea!

Zealot

images (40)

“What the hell do you mean you’re a Mormon?!”

No one has actually said that to me, but you get the idea.

That seems to be an approach or consensus among most people about any religion that is different from their own beliefs or lack thereof.

I was a little bit apprehensive to write about religion.

One of top 3 subjects that will get people fired up and create instant expert analysis.

Other than religion, the subjects to avoid are politics and homosexuality. Any of these topics WILL ALWAYS raise opinions, ire or homicidal mania that instigates religious fervor and zealotry.

I do not wave my Mormon flag wherever I go.

I am a terrible representative of the LDS religion.

I will never be the poster child of my “chosen” church.

I am loud, obnoxious, an alcoholic, full of shit, I occasionally say dirty words, I don’t follow our Word of Wisdom to the letter, I hardly ever go to church (mostly because I’m a truck driver) and I don’t pray every day.

But it’s the church that I belong to.

I joined it of my own free will.

I was baptized into my chosen church in 1984.

The LDS Article of Faith #11 basically states “Let us worship our way and we’ll let you worship your way”

I swear it’s true…the phrasing I mean.

I have fought, battled, had highs and lows and generally done everything imaginable that could possibly convince me that I didn’t need a church.

For 29 years I have see-sawed between non-compliance and saint-hood.

But, I will tell you now…my struggles with my faith…my struggles with my church’s doctrine…..through it all…I will tell you that the ONLY reason I am alive today is because of my belief in my church.

It was MY CHOICE.

Then why do people, from any religion, disdain people who are not of their particular faith or belief structure?

“I think I’ll have the shrimp” says one man.

“No…that is a crawfish” says another man.

“Well, it looks like a shrimp” says the one man

“Yes, I know they look alike, but there is only one true shrimp” says the other man.

“How can you tell, they are covered in different spices and sauces and are presented in varying techniques?” says the one man

“A shrimp is a shrimp” replies the other man.

What got me thinking about this subject matter was a billboard sign that I seen in Indiana somewhere. If I remember right it said “Life without Religion.com”

The sign did not offend me. But it did make me think to myself “Hmmph! I couldn’t live without religion”

Then I thought with growing perplexity, that I wouldn’t even KNOW HOW to live without religion. I really can’t even imagine it. Honestly as I’m writing this, I don’t want to live without religion.

Faith has nothing to do with it. Faith has all kinds of applications.

My faith rises and ebbs like a choppy sea, that’s just how I am. I am not a blind follower. I do not have the faith to be a Mormon suicide bomber.

But I keep trying to better myself.

Faith without works is dead, goes the mantra.

My understanding of this is that faith has to be worked at to be true faith, whatever the application.

There is no time limit and there is no due date on faith.

There is always faith…sometimes high….sometimes low.

But like hope, there is always faith in something.

For all I know, we keep working on it even after we go to the great blogosphere in the sky.

So why do people judge one another on their religious beliefs?

It is the ultimate hypocrisy.

Every religion that I have read about, and trust me, I have read about many in my own search for truth and meaning to it all, is that ALL religions have a few constants.

No murder.

No Blasphemy.

Charity.

Protection of the poor.

Tolerance.

Simple…and easy to understand.

At least you’d like to think so….

Here is one of the greatest quotes I have ever read, and keep in my heart of hearts:

**I believe in God, but not as one thing, not as an old man in the sky. I believe that what people call God is something in all of us. I believe that what Jesus and Mohammed and Buddha and all the rest said was right. It’s just that the translations have gone wrong.

John Lennon

Translation is a man-made thing.

We have created intolerance, indifference, extremism, and hate based on translations.

We’ve created murder, covetesnous, and racism justified by translations.

We are the masters of our own creations while being the victims of our own creations.

We are tantamount to a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde type existence.

Think about that for a second.

We are ignorant to the one fact that we can, in no way possible, understand what is impossible to understand.

We refuse to accept the fact that not everything is possible to comprehend and/or explain.

Consider Cricket….

Consider Australia…

Consider the stars…

Consider the Lily’s of the field…

Consider corduroy pants…

Whoever is following my blog, reading this post…I don’t care if you’re Catholic, Jewish, Muslim, Holy Roller, Jehovah’s Witness, Snake worshipper, Buddhists, Kama Sutra, or Atheists.

I accept everyone’s beliefs as a personal thing.

Too each his own.

Just grant others the same opportunity.

If it does not cause harm to others…what’s the harm?

Their own individual, personal connection to a belief AND a faith is what MAKES THEM HAPPY.

The God of my own understanding has granted me FREE WILL.

I think that it is one of the greatest and darkest gifts to be given to mankind.

Free Will and Faith….

Apply both without prejudice

Accept both without prejudice.

Respect others rights to them.

As the man said, according to one translation I BELIEVE is correct…

“Love one another”

What could be wrong with that…?

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