Life

This is the way life works.
The alarm clock wakes you up. It always wakes you up even though you sleep like crap. Your mind and body don't allow you to sleep comfortably. And your mattress sucks. Sags in the middle and is cruelly uncomfortable but you cannot afford a new one. Once one of the springs broke through and sliced you to the bone. You had to call 911 and be rushed to the hospital. That was a memorable day. After tossing and turning all night you fall asleep at 5:25 a.m. The alarm blows at 5:30.
You fall out of bed and a rather large man is standing there with a sledgehammer in his hand. He winds that thing up and smashes you direct in the face. Drives you to your knees. You get up, spit out a couple of teeth, swallow some blood and say thank you.
You brush your teeth with your raggedy ass toothbrush. Some of the bristles get stuck in between your teeth, others tickle your lips. You wonder why you can never remember to buy a new one.
Climb into your 14 year old truck and pray that it doesn't break down on your way to work, again. Although part of you wants it to break down. Any excuse. But you can't afford it to break down and you stopped paying AAA, so you touch the feet of the St. Christopher statue that stands proudly on your dashboard, say a silent prayer and head off to the dungeon.
Your boss is waiting to greet you as you walk in the door. Your boss is a neanderthal who, true to the Peter Principle, has risen to his level of incompetence. (Except Rich). He is a bitter man whose boss and whose wife torture him. He takes it out on you. He doesn't inspire you or teach you or support your advancement; he grabs you by the neck and forces you to do things his way so he can look good.
Standing next to your boss is a rather large man with a sledgehammer. He winds that thing up and smashes you direct in the face. Drives you to your knees. You get up, spit out a couple of teeth, swallow some blood and say thank you.
You make it through the day by shutting down completely. You don't need to think and especially do not want to FEEL, to do your job. You learned that from your boss.
You kiss your recliner when you get home, caress it and tell it you love it. Sit down with an 18 ounce tumbler of whiskey and you begin to read. If you are a reader. Which represents exactly one tenth of one per cent of the population in this great country of ours. The rest of you watch Survivor 244 - Australian Outback (Torture, Mayhem, Swamps and Alligators). You consider this mentally challenging.
You read The Secret. You read Kill Regret-Ignore Worry-Live in THE NOW. You read Your Future, Your Fortune in Real Estate. You read Dream Like John Lennon Without Being Assassinated. You read all these books but you never follow the advice. But you keep reading them because you fear you need something more to grab onto than an 18 ounce tumbler of whiskey. Turns out you are wrong.
After reading for ten minutes and sleeping for three hours in your recliner, you straggle upstairs to bed. Lie there with your eyes wide open. And wait for the alarm to blow five minutes after you finally fall asleep.
You do this for 65 years. Starting at the age of 18, dying at the age of 83. There is no retirement because the republicans have taken that away from you. The same republican scum who drink $2,200 bottles of wine with their corporate cronies, smoke Cohibas, eat Brazilian steak and laugh at you and everyone you know every single day. The same republican scum who don't even realize they are being cuckolded by their corporate cronies.
You wake up in front of Jesus, who has a sarcastic grin on his face. You feel uncomfortable because you didn't think sarcasm would be Jesus' reaction at a time like this. You blink and say "What the hell happened? Is my life over? Eighty three years went by just like that?" His smile regains a touch of benevolence as he replies "Yes, your life is over. Life is good, no?" You say no and ask if there is an afterlife. The sarcasm returns to Jesus' face as he replies "Oh yeah, there is an afterlife, baby."
Standing next to Jesus is a rather large man with a sledgehammer in his hand. He winds that thing up and smashes you direct in the face. Drives you to your knees. You have no more teeth, but you do swallow some blood as your eternal journey begins. Your last conscious image is of the words GO TO HELL imprinted on the surface of the sledgehammer, just before it meets your face for the final time, rewarding you appropriately for a life well lived.