That was kind of cool. Not the faithful selling off their stuff and giving the money to the pastor. It was their choice but I feel bad for them.
If I remember correctly, I was at a poetry reading. I remember CalOkie getting a call from his son Mark.
The conversation went something like:
"Yes, I'm still here. How about you?"
"Yeah, (laughter) ...ok, love you too. Bye."
That was a nice way to end a day. This is not to say that I take all End of the World days lightly.
On September 11, 2001 I was listening to a talk from Jack Kornfield. It was on Roy of Hollywood's show on KPFK. It was such a good relaxing talk I didn't want to hear anything else so I turned off the radio.
Around 8 a.m. I log onto the Internet and saw the Google search page with a line about a terrorist plane crash. I didn't believe it at first but I came around to it as I turned on the TV.
At that moment I thought I was in the end times. I didn't trust Bush or Chaney to do the right thing. I thought for sure bombs would be dropped and then it would be a free for all Doomsday.
I was scared. I was so scared that I didn't know it. I went to the supermarket and there was nobody there but me and one cashier. Who was pale with fright. We both were on automatic.
I've never seen a supermarket totally empty during prime shopping time. It took a long time for that fear to go away.
I've had earthquakes. Rainstorms that dang near washed cars down the street. There have been fires in the mountains. I've seen humans acting badly.
Yeah. I want to celebrate the life I have with what I got left. If Spirit wants me he/she knows where to find me. I don't think I'm wanted anytime soon cuz Spirit knows I've got a lifetime of questions and clarifications I need to clear up to set my mind at ease.
Probably why I was plunked down here in the first place. Spirit needed a break from the chatter.
I want to go to an EOTW party but my co-worker reminded me that I am not as young as I seem to think I am. I can't get into a club.
"One look at that gray hair and they will see their granny, not a customer."
Dang it. She is right. It is not that I want to go to a swinging club. I don't. Never did. But if I wanted to then my hair shouldn't keep me on the other side of the door.
It is my own fault. I keep forgetting to dye it. I'm sucking up Coconut Oil to help with the brain fuzz. I think it is working. I remember to take the spoonful but that might be cuz I like the taste of Coconuts.
There is the reality that I can't fit into micro Daisy Dukes anyway. I'd cut my hips on those sharp angles. And you can't wear panties with those skimpy skimps.
I'd have a chance at the wet t-shirt spray-off but I'm thinking I'm not supposed to have a dangling gut seeping out from under the t-shirt.
There is a spiritual dance party happening that would be more my speed but it is Santa Monica. Too far away for me.
Maybe I should forget about the community dancing and singing kind of thing. Dancing before dying seems like a good idea but I'll hold off until I loose some weight or invest in Spanx.
Maybe next time.
It is a good thing that the so-called End of the Word is going to occur around 3:30 ish a.m. Pacific Time.
The electric blanket will be on #7. I'll wake up just long enough to check the clock and for bursts of light. Then I'm going back to sleep.
I still gotta go to work the next day.