I'd like to be... under the sea... huh uh, that's not it....
People are strange when you're a stranger... well, mebbe, but it ain't the gist here....
Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right... hmmm.. so, holier than thou eh Victor? Now wait justa gol durn minute...
On my 7th cup of coffee... my ashtray overflows.. (crap, he's 68, if he ain't quit by now, he ain't gonna.)... I can't paint, but I'd loveta... And no, not the Nelson Art Gallery kinda paint... paint, as in paint the world. Junk that at least we'd like to see as we churn thru the remainder, en route to the urn. Churn to the urn.
I'd like to teach the World to live, in perfect harmony. Twisted lyrics, but, you get the idea. Dream on Victor. I am.
I'd like to see the only tears coming from a child be those of immense happiness. A mom and a dad for every child - if not, then at least one Golden parent (or replacement parent when impossible for the natural parent to be there)... Someone that could be 'the catcher' when a child occasionally in life turns and runs to safety - that catcher would always be there for them.
I'd like it if there's any way God could realign the lifespan of a pooch.. insteada one year equalling seven.. perty please make it 1 = 1. They are so more deserving than us humans. Cats too if we must. (JK, I love cats)
It would be wonderful if somehow the transformation of all the aged into the beyond could be painless...accompanied by daily visits from family members.
I'd like it if someone would invent a SMTWTFS pillbox... Victor, they already have those.. I wasn't done, tyvm. A SMTWTFS where, not only are we reminded to take the meds to keep our body sound.. but, for instance, when you open the 'S':
You are magically taken to stageside of a live music show.
M - you'd be in the woods, perfect temps...the sounds and sights of nature abound and around.
T - you're expressed to a theatrical mancave (or womancave) - where for the next several hours there are videos of you in your youth, running, playing, laughing with neighbor kids, school chums, and of course, youthful parents.
W - off to the beach. It somehow seems to be life's tonic everyone refers to. All the answers. You'd have a body that would allow you to hop the breakers. A big ole towel to keep the grains of sand away.. and shades enabling perfect sight with no strain.
T - you find yourself in a car with your BFF's from over the years.. you land at a buffet.. and every single delicasy of your taste buds is laid out before you, an appetite to match, and your favorite liquid to wash it down is in huge decanters at the end of the line.
F - would find you at a timeclock, punching out for the day, week, year, forever - you go to get in your car and there in the parking lot is every single coworker you've ever had. Chairs aplenty. The first few hours there would be mandatory "ROTATE" calls so you wouldn't miss a single person.. then at the end, you hover with your favorites from over the years, for however long you wanna hover.
S - family. You'd awaken at whatever age you wanna awaken, and all around you will be family, at whatever age you'd like them to be. There are no 'have to's' (set bedtimes, kid's ballgames, church/community meetings, yada).. you stay.. they stay.. you thank God for the woods, the videos of life past, the blues (as in color, not as in sadness) of the beach.. the fruits of being with BFF's whilst filling your bellies.. the timeclock, taking this job and shoving it (or, loving it, whichever be your case). a plethora of former coworkers).. to alit with family. Chairs that have been presently emptied - now full again. Remember what you said you wished you'da said? Here's the opportunity.
Then, we all get a note in the mail.. it reminds us.. the aforementioned doesn't say squat about who is President.. whether we drive a Bentley or an old Rambler.. whether or not our abode has one bathroom to pee per person (or not).. The size of our IRA, or not. It's ok to have monikers like PHD, MBA, BS, or, simply a lifetime of BS - but it doesn't define you, the person - or, the other person. It's all about heart.
It's ok to live. It's ok to dream. Kinda like peanut butter and jelly (I always preferred banana insteada jelly).. why can't we do both? Live and dream.. Much of the above is still possible. All possible, with eyes closed.
Once the pillbox had been emptied.. the wonder of it all taken in.. you'd find an escalator... as you rise up, you'd remove the backpack that contains worry, regret, self doubts, former bad moods, mislabeled things you thought were important, yada.
The Beginning,
Love, Victurd
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