Under A Blood Red Moon

We walk out the door under a blood red moon and her highness and her royal mother suggest I try not to get into trouble.

It makes me laugh because it is often what is said just before trouble finds me.

They tell me not to call if I get arrested and I agree to try not to but suggest I just might talk my way out of it.

It is not like I haven’t talked my way out of speeding tickets and a few other tricky situations more than once.

Yet it hasn’t always worked and I can tell a story or two about how I got hit during the middle of my attempt to talk which reminds me of the Mike Tyson story about everyone having a plan until they get hit.

It is true.

And it is also true that Mrs. Wilner’s son used to bang his head upon the ground when he was young and angry.

Mostly grew out of the intentional head banging but retained the lessons learned from taking a beating which offers a mixed bag

One can say there is a certain skill that comes with knowing you beat your head against the concrete and one can argue that skill is brain damage.

A Great Story

I have a great story. I have written parts and pieces of it down almost daily including today for reasons I cannot explain other than compulsion and or madness.

Not sure if they are the same or different.

What I know is it is the kind of tale that is legendary and those who hear it with an open heart and mind cannot be unmoved.

I am not going to share it with you today. Might not share it with you any day.

Might say no and make you do the monkey hop.

Might say no and make you say thank you.

You could submit and I still might say no.

Or I might not.

What I know for certain is I know nothing and I know everything with very little left in between.

It is a hell of a place to be, in between.

When you find yourself neither here nor there and not certain whether you ought to press on, stand your ground or retreat.

A situation born of fate and enhanced by alloy of faith and fear. The sweat off your brow might provide sustenance for sum or be seen as the opposite of aphrodisiac.

That is the rub isn’t it, when you don’t know when, where or how it started but you know that it has, did and is.

So you cannot pretend you are unaware of it because it won’t allow you to forget and you cannot leapfrog past the Gumdrop falls or Pink canyon. You can only push in and push on.

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