MAKING STUFF UP                                                                                9/24/10

I know that I make up the monster that today lurks just out of sight.                                          I know because the sound track on the monster story is this baby crying.                            It’s not the clenched fist, leg kicking, red faced,                                                                     “I want something different now” crying that I know.”

It’s a whimpering that turns on at some point of malnutrition.                                              The survival program says “Enough of this bellowing tantrum stuff.                                  We’re wasting too much energy and it’s not working.                                                        Now we’re going to make the least, most energy efficient sound                                        that still might get some attention.”

It is the worse sound that I never heard.                                                                    Sometime back in the past I asked myself what was the thing that I was most grateful for.        I don’t remember how long it took or what was the process.                                                but the answer that came out was that I was most grateful that                                               I never had to hear my kids cry from hunger and not be able to feed them.

There never seemed to be any debate about what the answer was.                                    No contest.                                                                                                                      Being able to feed my kids was #1.

(I don’t know what hunger is either)                                                                                      So I hear this sound that I have never heard.                                                                          I’ve got to be making it up.                                                                                                    Yet it drives me.

I’m so critical of those superstitious ones that have some book                                          and they claim that it is the word of God.                                                                          And they live their lives all about the words in the book                                                      and there is no book ever written that somebody didn’t make up.

I go on living with that monster that’s lurking                                                                      with all those hungry people who haven’t a clue.                                                               And I just make the whole thing up because what the hell do I know.