Fires in my footsteps

An average day of work for the man was filled with several key components. Dividing the deep, returning the lost, and looking amiable while doing it. Easy as a thought, a whisper, a walk, a hand in the ill touched places. Of course, easy jobs make easy pains, and those are perhaps the very worst kinds. The kinds that everyone suspects and no one talks about. the day can continue with an easy pain, continue into the unmentionable night, until the moment finally severs and a man will be incapacitated. It is difficult to think of tomorrow when the simplicities of today are what weigh us down. They just seem so normal.

And that is perhaps the stigma of an easy job. For those who think dividing the deep and returning the lost seem like complexities, not even mentioning the lofty goal of amiability, we can change your mind with a few different verbs and nouns. Anyone could and anyone does. It is all how you spin the tale, and right now we are spinning it backwards. Where the ones with the small jobs, the easy ones, all think they are small people. Easy men. Easy women. The ones with complexities are given a wide birth. That they both bear burdens is quite true, but when the world is running amok with irregularity and the honored get to work in their honored way, we forget the juxtaposition it is to our easy men, our simple labor fellows, ordinary day.

Left isn't the only direction

Left isn't the only way I can spin. I can spin right as well. I'm unidirectional. Just sometimes, I think it far too much trouble. Hard to change directions without a clear reason and life seems so easy to maintain in stubborn constant. Then, one day, you wake up to realize that spinning left and spinning right aren't even a major focus of life, merely transportational skills you will need to learn how to wood work or walk or climb, and that even those things are just simple elements that let you sit in cozy places and read, and even that is only so that you can get knowledge so that you can do even more. Where does it end? Well, never. But, a better questions is where does it begin. Simple. With a quest for true love. I'm not entirely referring to the mushy lovey dovey accepting kind understanding overcoming love between man and woman, though that plays a key part of it, I speak of the love for all people, all knowledge, all emotion, all goodness. I am talking about charity. I am talking about the same feeling you get when you are eating warm tomato soup with grilled cheese sandwiches at a table seating only the most wonderfully eccentric and good people in pleasant jubilation. No. It isn't only seasonal. This is for all year. So is love. Not just the grilled cheese.

I will use this holiday season to tell you all I love you. Every. Single. One. And, may you enjoy the time you spend in a world like this. Where there are turkeys, pizzas, and spinning and mind-bogglingly fast speeds.