25 September 2011

Man was made for others. Admiring yourself in the mirror of your soul will cause you to bow down to your shadow self. Later, your knees will become calloused stubs and resemble feet. Then your hands will undergo the same process in the futile attempt to see your, now distorted, shadow. Eventually, the eyes will become larger, the feet diminish, and your life will be one long painful crawl in the dust of loneliness.

It’s better to complement, to love, and help others. It’s really the best way to grow.

15 September 2011

Maxims

"Speak softly and carry a big stick."
--old Kenyan saying often attributed to Winston Churchill

"And if that doesn't work-use it."
--Jason M. Parrish

13 September 2011

Story

Every person has a role in Life. Everyone has a niche to fill. We all are in a great story, that only the end of time will reveal.

12 September 2011

Page 31...or close

Polly arrived home exhausted. She slumped into a chair fully determined to read the first three chapters of the newest best-seller entitled Prey Love, Eat. It was the first (and hopefully last) novel written by the Entomological Society of America that chronicled the romantic adventures of an oft-marrying female preying mantis named Nancy during her sojourns through the Olympic Mountains of the Pacific Northwest.

Five minutes later she fell asleep and dreamed she was walking through the largest house she had ever seen. The number of cobwebs seemed a bit much and with each passing minute her apprehension grew. Somebody in the house needed her help. She felt the desperation and waning hope of somebody she knew, and as she explored the rooms, the sense of that somebody drew her like a magnet.

She came to a room full of books and an enormous hand-carved wooden table in the center. Beside the table was a chair with purple velvety cushions. She pulled a dusty book from the shelves. It contained nothing but blank pages. She took another and discovered it was blank as well.

How remarkably,’ she thought.

She flipped through three more books and discovered they too were blank.

“I must fill these books with words,” she said and sat down to write.

‘Hmm…what to write, what to write?” She thought. “Let’s see. Once upon a time…” Her mind drew a blank. The cobwebs, she noticed, were increasing in number. Her anxiety increased. She started anew and felt something tickle her foot. It was a spider inscribed with the letter E on its abdomen and it was methodically wrapping silk around her toes.

“Eek!” she screamed and beat the creature with the book. Polly carefully tossed the dead spider into the trash only to discover it was not quite as dead as she hoped. Nor was the creature happy. Furthermore, the letter E had been turned upside down, (or she had been looking at it wrong), and was now twice its size. The E was really three letters written in calligraphy and read,

L T J

“Enough is enough,” she said and ran out of the room only to trip over the body of Maurice, laying in a coma, and covered with cobwebs.

She awoke in a cold sweat. The clock read 3:33 A.M. and tears filled her eyes.