It's Celebration Time...

…Or Is It???

Sunday night.  July 20th.  There's a party going on next door.  Still on planet Earth.  A birthday.

Whoopee.

…So what do I do tonight.  Eat in, as per usual.  Or eat out, as per occasionally.

'Go out for dinner.  Celebrate.'

Celebrate what.  My  country selling out its soul?  Or having its soul sold out from under it.  Same thing.  

'Go on.  Celebrate.  Experience a change of pace.'

Okay.  Whatever you say…not that I expect much good to come from it.  Anyway: McDonald's - here I come.  Ready or not.  That's a joke.  Ha.  Ha.

'McDonald's.  That's as good as you can muster?'

Yes.  You were expecting me to spend some unnecessary money on myself??  

'I should have known better.'

Indeed.  Especially if you're my Higher Self.  Or whatever…...Okay.  Here we go, here we go, here we go.

Another joke.

Hey.  I'm a joke.

'Don't say that.  Don't ever think that.'

Why not.  'Here to change the world.'  It is to laugh.  Me?  A failure in everything I've ever touched, ever tried my hand at?  What about that time……Oh, forget it.  It's too painful to recall.

'You want to know what I think?'

Why.  Should I??

'I think you're going through a Cleansing.'

A cleansing.  That's rich.  And will take some time, boy, if it's true.  

'Well.  Just consider it.'

Okay.  I just did.

'I mean, really.'

Why.

'Because.  It happens.  When souls are ready to progress.  Like those on planet Earth, right now.  Facing their Ascension.'

There you go again.

'Well.  Just consider it.'

You just said that.  And I just did.

'Just don't lose sight of the fact.'

That…

'That the universe has Purpose.  And that purpose is Good.'

Okay.  Got that one.  At least…

--

P.S. Washing some cherries for my nightly bowl of ice cream just now, and pulling the stems off of them, I was reminded of - more actually, flashed on - a memory from my childhood.  Second half of my first grade (I spent the first half in another city); our teacher told us about 'the father of our country, George Washington,' and how 'he could not tell a lie;' landing it with having us color in a print outline drawing of some cherries, with their stems on, in memory of the dear cherry tree that little George chopped down with his trusty hatchet.
     Never did find out why he had done that.  But, salient point taken.  And for a lifetime, it would appear.
     Wonder what they teach kids these days about George Washington.
     Probably that he was a slaveowner, and wore a wig.
     Ha.  Ha.