Index 
Death Idea of God Soul
Dear God, You seem to be sending that ol’ time engine of death down my track, comin’ straight at me. I don’t suppose my supplications can stop that train, can they? I hear a loud and clear "Nope" with a little smile. So with a little smile of my own, soothing lots of seriousness, I retort, “Damn you”, to which both laugh and cry at the same time, but I must add, “Thank you”, for this, whatever 'this' is, whatever is penning this prayer. I know it can’t go on forever, at least not the part (and I think all of "me") that is influenced by the brain, heart, and cock and would be indistinguishable from whatever is penning this prayer. "I" will change when the train sweeps past me, I think extinguishing “me”; but even if not again indistinguishable. The train may strike before I finish this sentence. It didn’t, thank you, and it probably won’t tomorrow, thank you. But someday soon, even if I live to be 110 (decimal) it will arrive. So I figured I don’t really have any time to “make things” right, so I better do it once and for all (some time ago actually, but don’t know exactly when or if it is completely done even now, today. “Doing it” entailed you. I just decided to stop cursing you for anything except your killing me. So other than lamenting my mortality, selfish that I am, I accept you’ve done a great job, much better than I could have. Things are as they “should” be, even if I know of my own impending death. So until then, “Thank you.”. It, your universe couldn’t be better. And death then? Well, we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?. Who knows, you may have a surprise or two up your sleeve in your magical repertoire. |