Crooked Finger (crookedfingers) wrote,
Crooked Finger
crookedfingers

  • Mood:

walls of glass

It is a Monday morning 7:07 AM another day to count off the days before the end of the world. How many more days left before it is all over and then the fun begins.

I got up around 5:50 AM because I hate laying in bed when my dreams are never going to come true. So I got up went to my main study put on my house clothes. It is cold in the morning so I put on wool socks, sweat pants, a T-shirt, and a denim shirt. I walked to our kitchen made a pot of coffee which entails grinding the coffee beans and filling up the coffee pot with water for ten cups of coffee. I poured the water into the coffee maker. I next poured water into a hot water maker to get water real hot to pour into a big thermos. We fill up this thermos with hot water so as to get it hot inside. After the coffee is made we pour out the hot water in the thermos and then fill it with fresh hot coffee.

If you leave coffee on a coffee pot burner it burns the coffee. One could write a book describing all one does in one day. The problem I find is that I do not have the words to describe what I do each minute of any given day. My life is beyond description. I do not know what is going on in all of Reality. I live by faith each moment of existence. I try to live within a comfortable structure of darkness. If I stay within these house walls I can prevent massive chaos/the vast unknown from overwhelming me. But there is a day when I will die and the false walls of reality will crumble.

After making coffee I came here to our main computer which can be located in our living room. There is a window the right of me. Behind me is our living room with a TV, stereo, chairs, a couch, and a large collection of books and CD's. As one dies in middle class comfort one can entertain oneself with television watching (we do not participate in real life but watch a false image of it on a TV screen), listen to music and read books. I do spent a lot of time watching birds from our kitchen window. Outside our kitchen window is a bird feeder, a bird bath and a suet basket for woodpeckers to peck at suet.

My wife has not gotten up yet to face another day. Carol works the next three nights. Carol is a Rapid Response nurse at a local hospital. She works nights from 8 PM till 8 AM 12 hour shifts. My wife wants to retire from nursing so as to rest her bones.

I have nothing to do today. I need to get saved. I need to get ready for death/the end of this present evil age.

Last night my wife and I watched taped television shows. Carol went to bed and I read late into the night from a book titled, 'The Lonely City: Adventures In The Art Of Being Alone' by Olivia Laing. I read till I felt I could go to bed and not feel sorry for myself.

Well, I suppose I will close. When my wife gets up I will make oatmeal for breakfast. Life is a bowl of oatmeal. There is no way out. I am surrounded by walls.
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