Dear Wednesday

Dear Wednesday, I’ve been watching you. You’re such an ordinary dude, with that whole mysterious way about you. That whole “back & forth” control you have in our lives is so unique/so original; something like a Supreme Court Judgeship that you wear forever. And you’ve got that variety going! On one hand, we can rejoice knowing you rep the “halfway there” mark. On the other, we can feel relief in how we’re “halfway done” with whatever is holding us back or limiting us. Some people actually “wake up” as soon as you come around, while others look at you as a joke, just humpin around. For me, everyday is the same, and I already see your potential… everyday is Saturday to me (no offense), therefore I can see the possibilities of you. So, instead of trying to make sense of it all, I just thought I’d envy you this morning. Thought I’d appreciate you for your ordinary ways, but I’m with you, aspiring to be Friday ‎#extraordinary with high hopes of becoming Saturday, all in accordance with the ultimate purpose & deliverance: Sunday Yours truly, ‎#relentless — drinking coffee at Starbucks.

Relentless Daily for Monday, July 1st 2013

Relentless Daily Monday-July 1st 2013
It’s Monday morning. And time for the next-greatest affirmation of my life:

If you say it loud enough, you’ll always sound precocious

Let's try to speak, act, debate and communicate "ON PURPOSE." Look, I can't control who you are and the decisions you make; but I can show you a better way to achieve your outcome. The key is to live and survive so that you can indeed achieve that positive outcome. ONE LOVE. RELENTLESS LOVE

Proin pharetra

All children, except one, grow up. They soon know that they will grow up, and the way Wendy knew was this. One day when she was two years old she was playing in a garden, and she plucked another flower and ran with it to her mother. I suppose she must have looked rather delightful, for Mrs. Darling put her hand to her heart and cried, “Oh, why can’t you remain like this for ever!” This was all that passed between them on the subject, but henceforth Wendy knew that she must grow up. You always know after you are two. Two is the beginning of the end.

Mrs. Darling first heard of Peter when she was tidying up her children’s minds. It is the nightly custom of every good mother after her children are asleep to rummage in their minds and put things straight for next morning, repacking into their proper places the many articles that have wandered during the day.

If you could keep awake (but of course you can’t) you would see your own mother doing this, and you would find it very interesting to watch her. It is quite like tidying up drawers. You would see her on her knees, I expect, lingering humorously over some of your contents, wondering where on earth you had picked this thing up, making discoveries sweet and not so sweet, pressing this to her cheek as if it were as nice as a kitten, and hurriedly stowing that out of sight. When you wake in the morning, the naughtiness and evil passions with which you went to bed have been folded up small and placed at the bottom of your mind and on the top, beautifully aired, are spread out your prettier thoughts, ready for you to put on.

I don’t know whether you have ever seen a map of a person’s mind. Doctors sometimes draw maps of other parts of you, and your own map can become intensely interesting, but catch them trying to draw a map of a child’s mind, which is not only confused, but keeps going round all the time. There are zigzag lines on it, just like your temperature on a card, and these are probably roads in the island, for the Neverland is always more or less an island, with astonishing splashes of colour here and there, and coral reefs and rakish-looking craft in the offing, and savages and lonely lairs, and gnomes who are mostly tailors, and caves through which a river runs, and princes with six elder brothers, and a hut fast going to decay, and one very small old lady with a hooked nose. It would be an easy map if that were all, but there is also first day at school, religion, fathers, the round pond, needle-work, murders, hangings, verbs that take the dative, chocolate pudding day, getting into braces, say ninety-nine, three-pence for pulling out your tooth yourself, and so on, and either these are part of the island or they are another map showing through, and it is all rather confusing, especially as nothing will stand still.

Of course the Neverlands vary a good deal. John’s, for instance, had a lagoon with flamingoes flying over it at which John was shooting, while Michael, who was very small, had a flamingo with lagoons flying over it. John lived in a boat turned upside down on the sands, Michael in a wigwam, Wendy in a house of leaves deftly sewn together. John had no friends, Michael had friends at night, Wendy had a pet wolf forsaken by its parents, but on the whole the Neverlands have a family resemblance, and if they stood still in a row you could say of them that they have each other’s nose, and so forth. On these magic shores children at play are for ever beaching their coracles [simple boat]. We too have been there; we can still hear the sound of the surf, though we shall land no more.

Of all delectable islands the Neverland is the snuggest and most compact, not large and sprawly, you know, with tedious distances between one adventure and another, but nicely crammed. When you play at it by day with the chairs and table-cloth, it is not in the least alarming, but in the two minutes before you go to sleep it becomes very real. That is why there are night-lights.

Occasionally in her travels through her children’s minds Mrs. Darling found things she could not understand, and of these quite the most perplexing was the word Peter. She knew of no Peter, and yet he was here and there in John and Michael’s minds, while Wendy’s began to be scrawled all over with him. The name stood out in bolder letters than any of the other words, and as Mrs. Darling gazed she felt that it had an oddly cocky appearance.

This is But A Test of the Emergency Broadcast System

This is a test of the Emergency Broadcast System. You will arrive at the Atlanta Greyhound station with your woman and child. You will do a Google search for a room rental and because most other options are too expensive, too far, or sold out, you will call us with the anticipation that we will solve your issues.

We have just one room left, suitable for a single adult, or a couple that wouldn't mind sharing the same bed. But the room is certainly too small for 3 people. Moreover, someone called just 20 minutes earlier and swore he'd be here to take this last room, and so... You will inquire as to availability. When I explain that we cannot accommodate you, you will then ask "how far are you from the Greyhound Bus Station?" I will look at my phone as if it has suddenly lost it's mind, but then I will explain to you kindly: "Sir, it wouldn't matter how far we are from the Greyhound because, as I mentioned, we cannot accommodate you." And I will then say, "Thanks for calling and good luck," before I gently hang up the phone.

Before I write this commentary I will need to ask myself: "Sir, why do you put up with these engagements on a daily basis?" But then I'll answer myself and say; "Bruh, you know you gotta pay these bills until they're all satisfied? You know you need to keep making money as a life-requirement?" But just when I'm about to argue with myself, I hear: "Now shut your trap, get these thoughts off your shoulders and get your ass back to work...sir"

GULP

Much Needed music break. Please, and thank you

@Times I Just Luv Good Pics

Only one thing is impossible for God: To find any sense in any copyright law on the planet.
Mark Twain

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Comments are disabled. Yes, I'd love to know your opinions/but I've left them to social media. I believe this is where art lives. However, you are free to submit a comment for review. Thanks so much for all the love over the years. Live with passion as you pursue your greatness.

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