Warning: LIGHT me up…
…and we are about to explore and explode into places your mind has yet to dive. Let it percolate for a while, watch it spin down that spiral and land in your heart, all while I walk in the door all LIT up…AND not USING ALL CAPS WHILE I’M not DOING IT!
I am LIT! Do you see how LIT I am?
ON FIRE, so to speak?
Is it evident to you from your perspective?
I wish I could tell you the story about
to0day, but that would be yelling, it would be confidential information that is top-secret company business. Tip top and not just the tip (or the toppled over effect post tip).
I wish I could tell you the story, but it’s about to become the
best story you have ever heard in your life because it was mine and yours. We can both have it when I am allowed to tell you THIS story. When I am allowed…
If I told you mY story, you would hear hope that wouldn’t let go.
If I told you this story, you would hear love that never gave up.
If I told you mY story, you would hear life, but it wasn’t just mine.
If I should speak?
Then let it be of “One” story of a grace that is greater than all “I” have ever done. It would be of a sacrifice of “I” for the “we” and the “they”. It would be a story that was just like yours, but not exactly.
If I should speak?
It would be a story of grace about grace…
…and where I decided that I was done with my own personal, professional, confidential, lawyers and securities of legal battles for
to000day. You can have my social status and the security of that number. I would tell you that I am write about being right to write my opinion in this journal, and who is to Judge?
Lawyers? I don’t want that on my forehead either, but I’ve already got that small blemish of a pimple on my record and if I stare, it could really stink to look at that festering mess of a blister too.
Would you be my judge of a pimple? Would you play my devil’s advocate and love that I wasn’t a judge to you either? Would that matter, and that I was never your Judge Judy? That you could “pee on my leg and tell me it’s raining” and I would just laugh?
I will laugh with you. I would laugh because ‘I love you’ too. I would laugh because I hoped that we have found a mutual respect of one another, that you wouldn’t pee on my leg, but when you do…really pee if those toxins need to come out (or something weird like that…)
(and no more bullying, if you please,
Madams and Sirs: Neither : All of the above).
No more bullying because it’s no fun for me or anyOne. If you don’t know that you are a bully, if there is ever a question that you might be, you probably are One and just like me.
Just like me?
There is a better life here. I feel a better life inside, I’ve had that simple life for quite some time now, and join me won’t you? Also, stop peeing on my leg too, bully. We both know it’s happening, don’t we? As One, we know what bullying and passionate aggression is now, don’t we?
We know that when we share our beliefs, we need to do it as a we.
We know what bullies are = because we have been One. As a “we”, do we know that this as a collective consciousness of bullying? That there is a better life and that we have faith to believe in something bigger and better than what we did today?
Somebody, anyOne….please? Do you read me?
People…we are about to explore and explode into places your mind has yet to dive. Let it percolate for a while, watch it spin down that spiral and land in your heart, all while I walk out the door all LIT up…!
I AM LIGHT!
I am right (for me)!
I am aloud to speak my mind to whom I want when I want with the people I love just as much as you do. It’s called turning on the light and this is my space to do that in my mind. This is mine…for nwo.
and I can play bullies-advocate just like you…Two ‘guys’ can play that game, and we both pee in the same gender-fluid bathroom that lives in my heavenly head. Is this hell to you? Either way, we both put the toilet seat up or down and it’s no big deal. It’s not a game and who cares who left the toilet seat up/down. I’m just sorta glad that we have running water and toilets for now.
My dad was a farmer and there was a time that we had an outhouse, you know…
~’Stephanie Bird’, over and out