I'm About To Clean The "Attic" Of My Mind
Everyone has one. Everyone uses one. Then that day comes when everyone runs for fear, or to find a hiding place, for it's time to clean theirs. The attic.
The attic in our homes I would guess is a very romantic, nostalgic place if you are a clinger to old love letters, keepsakes, childhood dolls, and other things that you hold onto just so ever now and then, you can drift back to a time in your life when you were really happy.
I am guilty of doing this. But then again, there comes "a" time when you and I have to face facts. Most of my "cobwebs" in the "attic" of my mind are dark pieces of thought, unfinished ideas, and things I have wondered about over the past 46 years without having the satisfaction of solving these mental mysteries.
So now, I am not only cleaning these things I've stored away in my mind's "attic," but sharing them with you. And it will not bother me when you finish reading this if you choose to call me a "mental hoarder," for that title will be short-lived.
After this piece is published, I will set-out on the rest of my life journey a little lighter, but with a clean "attic."
This "cobweb" is going to be cleaned out
Other dust-covered, depressing memories that I am putting in the trash
Here we are alone in the pool
So what do I say? This would be "the" dilemma of dilemma's. In this unfinished scenario, I happen to make friends with this hot, sexy lady CEO of a huge fashion magazine. She likes me. She even calls to see if I am sleeping okay. What man wouldn't love this set-up? Well, "my" problem would be not having anything much to say to her. Of intelligent-base that is.
For any man or woman. What a place. Beach, sun, no one around to cause you any trouble, but why would "I" still be so upset at being put here by some foreign country? Well, I am so afraid that I would actually learn to "love" seclusion--away from friends, family and pets. I fear strange scenarios like this.
Girl with the pretty balloons
I have never met such a girl. I saw one on ABC-TV in the late 60's. Her name was Peggy Lipton. She starred on "The Mod Squad." One show had her working undercover as a free spirit--dancing in a park giving away pretty balloons. I searched high and low, but there were no girls like Peggy in my hometown. Plenty of balloons, but what good were they?
So long, girl with big eyes
I confess here in front of God and everyone. I cannot stand girls with big eyes who look like this girl in the photo. What is she thinking about? Take a good look. The main reason I cannot stand girls with big eyes is that they remind me too much of Zooey Deschanel of ABC's "New Girl." I cannot stand Deschanel. I want a girl who is easy to talk to and I don't need a program to follow her when she talks.
French food, yes. French horn, no
Never in my wildest dreams have I ever, and I do mean ever, had a lustful-desire to play a French horn in private or in a band. I just avoid high school band instruments every chance I get. That's good because there are no stores in my hometown that sell high school band instruments.
I'm no gigolo
Although I have thought it would be a fine way to earn big bucks. No. What I'd like to do is be with a woman in a non-sexual way. Dine her, wine her, show her the courtesies she deserves, but that evening, become molasses in my slow, methodical manner of kissing her neck and shoulders. But no sex. I admire women a lot. I do not view them as sex objects. Sue me.
Is what I would say if I were blessed to meet Him tomorrow. What else would I say? My Lord and King, Savior, High Priest, Only begotten Son of God, how are you? Fine, He would say and laugh quietly. Wanna hear a joke, Jesus? I'd say. The bartender said, "why the long face?" Aww, you always know the end from the beginning, Lord. Yes, Jesus would say. Then I'd talk to Him about how He made the universe.
Am I having fun yet?
Looks like no on that one. I've been where this sad guy is now. Not invited to eat with "the" crowd at school, church or work. Not a fun place to be. I have in my time done the work, followed the rules, been nice to "the" crowd, but not many times was I ever asked to eat with them. So long, memory that has tormented me. I simply do not care anymore.
My favorite thing to do
Is show-up for work wearing a pig mask. Cool, right? Who would expect a quiet-natured guy like myself to do such an outlandish thing? No one. That's why it is so hilarious. And to make it even more side-splitting, I would even do pig sounds, "Oink! Oink! Squeal!" as I walked into my office. That evening it didn't work at the Unemployment Office.
Depression? Look again
At the person sitting on the wooden bench. Do you see them crying? No. Do you see them beating the bench--taking their anger out for someone hurting them? No. What you see is my idea of a perfect afternoon. Silence, peace, sun peeking through the clouds. My school of thought says who needs a big crowd to feel like a person?
Why not have pigs as pets?
Because of nature. Pigs like all things as babies, are cute and cuddly, but they do grow up. And love to eat. As a grown pig, they can set you back several hundred dollars a week in feed. I love baby pigs, but not adult pigs, because I am not going to keep a pig penned-up. That's cruel.
Snow and back-alleys
Are not my two favorite things. I love snowmen. I also love clean and friendly alleyways where people are civil, but I cannot tolerate being alone in a big city and it snowing and my "Uncle Thad," sending me on an unneeded errand to get him some toothpaste.
Kenny, do not fret. She's out there somewhere
If I had a buck for each time I have heard this one, I'd be sitting in Destin, Florida right now sipping a cup of fresh Colombian coffee talking to a new friend I had made. "She's" out there. Who is "she" anyway? Look at the pretty girl in the photo. Would I love to meet her and talk about life and things until the wee hours of forever? Yes. I cannot be more plain than that. And is "she" really out there? Yes. I will agree on that. But that also scares me.
The "train of life" always runs past me
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