Well, it’s October. And I still don’t know the details. I’m not surprised why he hasn’t called. Why? He keeps throwing me the “EGG”, the kind that seems to rot with age. While I love the aromatic, sulfuric smell of garlic and onion in the air and in my food, there is no “good news” whatsoever from this old man.
And frankly he doesn’t seem to give a damn because TPTB’s got him. How do I know? He called twice one time, for example. It’s an old trick – a hostage crisis. I see and hear it all the time! There was nothing I could do at that time because I got laid-off and was living on my savings, which went away for good cause because of my personal mission to right the wrong.
Again, I’m seeing a recurring theme in another story – starvation and homelessness. It would appear that karmic debt is playing its role well with everyone. And apparently, there seems to be no escape. Time and time again, I grow weary to see one crisis after another crisis surface like rising water, ready to drown its next victim.
When will all this madness end? Will no one else help to throw these fools a life preserver? I guess the outcome would be when everyone is happy or dead, whichever comes first. Either way, I’ve learned nothing, except noise makes me angry.
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