𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐀𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬 ...

I'm gonna wramble on on change and choice ... and, there's a story too.

If you follow the news, surely you're engaged in the issue of changes and choices. The bad news on so many fronts suggests the need for change. And, changes require choices. 

What is on your mind? How are things for you?

Let's cut to the chase. Important contextual fact:

 YOU ARE NOT YOUR MIND. 

NOR, ARE YOU YOUR BODY.

But, never mind that foregoing bullshit. Let's roll up our sleeves and get our hands good and dirty. "Good and dirty" when you do some good work. [It's a garden reference, not some notion of doing something bad. But, something with a good outcome. Good for you, and good for others as well. So keep that in mind.]

Is your work good? Toward the good? Are you working hard; or, hardly working? Are you, yourself? That is, good? What is your idea of what is good, and what is bad? Is it your own, or have you been programmed? If you knee jerk a "NO!" to that question, then for sure you are programmed. 

Don't get me wrong. Programming is good. Like we all drive on the same side of the road. Or, the faucet turns off with a clockwise twist. How you know which way to throw the wall switch to turn on the lights. How you know which end of a filter cigarette to light.  Or, how your nose isn't 12 inches long; [because otherwise it would be a foot.]

Imagine what if you’re world changed as much as if you were an Alligator in a warm swamp and suddenly you've become a Fox and found yourself in the snowy woods. 

The Alligator analogy is mine own. Make up your own. Whatever. The point is that whatever the fuck you were; you found yourself suddenly something else. Can you imagine that?

This is an interactive posting. Get with it! Something for you at the end of this read.

Really, do try. Imagine you’re one thing, and then in an instant you’re something else altogether. What were you? What is the something else you've become. Use your imagination. 

This is a story of one such experience.

The facts of the matter ... we consist of all things. There' a entire universe inside ever last one of us. By choice? Yes! So, choose where you are. What’s interesting is that when you do choose where you are, from that simple center you are free to make another choice; and from a vast wardrobe cabinet of characters and settings and scenery.. 

The Universe within, okay? The choice to change, or not, is entirely ours to make. Of course, destiny and karma do have a hand in it too. But, remember the first rule ... choose where you are, what you are, first; including your road to hoe and the karma delivered to your door. Take no prisoners. Delivered by Bezos or by Bozo's. 

That's right. You gotta get off the samsaric treadmill, bouncing back and forth between the attraction to what you like and aversion to what you don't. That's duality, bruh. How the fuck else way did we just come through a political election for President with one side incessantly attempting to convince us that the other guys are as good a Hitler. [Wonder if whether Adolf's Mom was a fan of her boychik?] And, the other side pretty much trying to make the same case for their competitor. Commies. Mandate or no, seems roughly each half of the country bought into one or the other of those narratives. With the "Hitler" most recently welcomed into the White House by his prime accuser. What a show. You can't make that shit up. So let's just move on, "unencumbered" and "joyful". Yes, I said that. Oh, you thinkin' that cause your girl lost there's no reason for joy any more or any how? I don't know of how she would circle that square and say about that, but JC certainly would. And, she certainly would go with Him! At least in terms of mouthing the words, she would. Okay, I confess; her nibs came off totes fake, pandering, and disengenuous to me. And, let's not argue. While there's sugarcoating your BS, there's other one; he believes his own bullshit. I find some honesty in that. Call me pisher. Yet, deeply concerning.

Okay, okay ... the story.

It was a languid sun soaked afternoon, lolling in the porch hammock, the Alligator hook swaying over the floating green algae on the surface of the pond, not a hundred or so feet from the house; baited with a plump juicy fresh killed rabbit. Nothing else to do but rest up. Cause, when that Gator takes the bait, there'll work to do. Gettin' that hefty critter off the hook and luggin' it into the shed. Guttin' and skinnin'. Them skins worth some, you know. The meat, that ain't bad neither. Sell most, and keep some for Momma for her fixin' up into all her specialitities. Gumbo, you'd probably figure from the description aforementioned and the way I bin talkin'. Muy regional, huh? Well shore enough! But her's she calls Mumbo Jumbo Gumbo. On account that she put in there all manner of stuff. Some, secret stuff. You better like it spicy, cause that's the way she do it. If the hot summer air ain't enough to don't make you sweat, that stuff'll make steam come out your ears. Cryin' with tears like from a baby, you'll be. Truly speakin'. For real's.

Well don't you know as soon as I get snorin' on that porch that dern critter took the bait. Straight out the water he jumped, must've bin 8 or so feet up where I set that rabbit carcass on that big ol' hook. By big, we're talkin' like a foot or so in circumfrence. Nasty mean thing. No swamp critter gonna get off that hook; no how, for shore. 

So, here's me pissin' and moanin' out of havin' to go get one Alligator off one hook. Drag that sumbitch into shed and get to work. Like I said, guttin' it then skinnin'. Butcherin' too.

By the way, if you wonderin' over how I don't have much use for the letter "g" in my writin' ... don't. That a nother tale, and I don't wanna get into it now; or, maybe never. Take it, or be leavin' it. 

Now to be gettin' back to tellin' the tale.

That one big one. 13 foot, and maybe around 700 pounds. My best one yet. So you can imagine, that's a lot of shoes and a whole year's worth of the meat; that is, if you have the means and the space to keep it that long. Took me all the rest of the day to get things sorted out. Not to worry, Mamma got the first cuts; and first off, so she cookin' up a storm as you fancy folks like to say, "As we speak".

After all that the day took out of me, and Mamma's stew, I went to bed knowin' I did some of that "good work" previously told about in the aforementioned verbilizationings. See, I know some big words too. No dummy never caught no Alligator, for shore. Specially one for the books like that one. Respect.

I should have thought again about the portent of catching on to such a record size Gator. One for the books, for shore.  A monster. A monstrum? You tell me.

Next morning. What the fuck!? Yesterday is was Gator Gumbo and today ... What the fuck!? Where am I? How the fuck did I get here? What the fuck!?

I don't think I can get across the incredibleness of my surprise at what the new dawn has dadgum gone and delivered. Kind of an Alice In Wonderland situation I'm in right now. Like some movie dreamed up by one of those coked up Hollywood wise guy writer's imaginations run amok. Not like the stuff they usually peddle, more like on steroids on top of all that coke. And, then, times infinity.

C'mon. This is really happening. It ain't just a story. It's a true one. Read on. Be amazed. Bewildered. Dumbfounded. Flabbergasted. Chagrined. Gobsmacked. Discombobulated. 

Let's have a moment, shall we? This is the point of the story where I have to come up with something to make a story out of it.  

Fact is, I got nothin'. I know, what I said earlier, about there's a universe inside. But, heck, "nothin'" is also part of the universe. And right now it be the presence of absence for me. 

So, let's try this. Like I said. There are infinite possible scenarios. How about if you got this far, maybe you could suggest something? The chosen winner will receive $1,000,000.00 tax free — there's some real money in Alligators, don't you know — and co-authorship credit. I'll repost this with the completed story appended and we can all live happily ever after.

So ... comments, please.

Right here is where your story begins ... Please to share.