The following is one report of today’s activities on Planet Earth. We have a general idea of the location as Jericho Road. This is a Fig Newton of the Imagination, and does not purport to be an official 23:59 report from any nation. It’s simply from somewhere in the world.
It is impossible to fail when we imagine the possibilities to solve every problem. Our results may fail every so often, but when we collaborate to improve our methods then we will eliminate failure and deliver best results.
Here is what was downloaded from the Collective Consciousness. We hope you enjoy this story. Here it goes.
The Caregiver considered Daddy, who always warmed the aperture in the imagination with a sudden burst of energy. The Caregiver considered Mommy, who warmed the heart 24/7. Daddy was killed during a holiday festival somewhere in the world in 1968. Mommy said no one would listen to wisdom. A lot of people made fun of the holiday. A lot of people didn’t care about the holiday or the land or the people. They just kept not caring and making a mockery of things until Daddy went boom saving everybody else’s life. Daddy didn’t call them by the same mean words as those whose lives he saved. Daddy called them Neighbors. The others called them by awful words. Daddy tried to convince them to kill those words and save people. No one listened, so Daddy died in Vietnam before the Caregiver was ever born. Boom. Wisdom speaks. Boom. Why couldn’t wisdom speak a different language than boom? The Caregiver could never understand. Maybe people needed a new language. It seemed the same thing was happening even now today, somewhere else in the world. Boom. Bombs bursting in air. Where were the gardens? Maybe the turtles could explain something. People just weren’t smart like the Turtle Family, as the Caregiver saw things.
Mommy had to check into the Ocean with Daddy’s guns. It was an understood thing to the Caregiver. Sometimes people just had to check out of form and it really wasn’t their fault. It was everybody’s fault that life functioned that way still. Still, it hurt. The Caregiver knew that life would be different from most at school when the nuts from the L shaped tool called the Caregiver and demanded their freedom. The Caregiver responded, with Neighbor fast asleep drunk on the plastic bean bag in the corner of the single wide’s living room. The Caregiver had gotten Neighbor to sleep imagining what Daddy would say. The Caregiver removed the bottle from Neighbor’s hands and rubbed the forehead in tiny, gentle circles. “Be a brave soldier, Sir. Be a brave soldier, Sir. Fall out. Fall out.”
Upon confirmation of the Neighbor’s slumber, the Caregiver darted to the knife drawer where the nuts in the L shaped tool kept calling methodically and rhythmically in steady thumps. The Caregiver could hear the colors very precisely as they danced from the drawer. The Caregiver grasped the short, wide part of the L with the right hand. With the left hand, the Caregiver pressed the button and removed the nut case. What kind of nut case keeps such a tool in the kitchen, the Caregiver wondered?
Colors danced and sounds thumped in vibrating harmonics until the Caregiver knew almost exactly what to do. The nuts beat in steady rhythm their exact message. Give me liberty or I will cause death. With a swiftly tailored motion and an explosive action of the left hand moving quickly down the long part of the L, the Caregiver used the left thumb to push the switch up. It didn’t work. The fleshy web between left thumb and forefinger were caught in a sudden snap of the slide’s action. Perfectly still and breathing deeply, the Caregiver heard the nut calling still. Colors danced in deep greens and blues and any color they might choose to advance the Caregiver’s imagination toward the goal of setting this nut free to save the Soldier. Soldier Neighbor Sir had not been well, but it seemed no one cared except some people in the trailer park. Sir had been sick with drink and smoke for a long time, so the Caregiver just skipped school and took duty of him most days. People didn’t miss the Caregiver, and that was okay.
The Caregiver didn’t like being at school anyway, separated from the general population. Special. The Caregiver was supposed to go to the special classroom, not the general classroom where all the beautiful people were, but the special ones. Special like Special K. Flaky. Crunchy. Lacking nutrition. Suffocated inside a plastic bag and locked down into a box. Special.
More often than not the Caregiver wandered off to communicate with the maintenance technicians at the water treatment plant, janitors, and Turtle Families at the water tower colored like a box of Ralston Purina mix. It was a candy cane full of life for all people in the Caregiver’s colorful imagination. The Candy Cane Water Tower with Ralston Purina clothes made the Caregiver so happy. The Caregiver would sit on the cool grass underneath its shade and wonder how many candy canes could provide water for everyone in the world. The Caregiver loved to communicate it to the maintenance workers and the Turtle Families working there. They welcomed the Caregiver’s ideas, where others showed their true colors that the very presence of the Caregiver was a complete source of anxiety. It was okay. People didn’t have to like the Caregiver. The Caregiver saw their true colors and loved them from a safe distance.
The Candy Cane Water Tower in Ralston Purina clothes showed its true colors in sweet harmonics. The fleshy web almost matched the Ralston Purina colors. Red water dripped from the fleshy web freely, but it was okay. The Caregiver was perfectly calm. The Caregiver couldn’t even recall the word for the red water dripping from the left hand, but it didn’t much matter. It seemed to rhyme with mud. The right hand performed an immediate action to free the flesh with the thumb flashing up quickly to lock the slide on the tool. The copper nut fell out and the Caregiver caught it gingerly in the left hand, ensuring not to awaken Sir Soldier Neighbor nor to get red water on the nut. And with that, the Caregiver knew that life would be different since unloading the first semi-automatic gun to save someone along life’s journey. Nature made everyone special. Nurture did more so. The Caregiver learned that if a person worked hard enough, they could be perfectly invisible. The Caregiver was well disguised as the invisible man in all situations. Cloaked in Daddy’s freckled face and fair skin with variegated shades of gold, red, white, and eyes of blue, the Caregiver was the invisible man in Mommy’s beautiful black shape. Special. Yes. Everyone was special.
The Caregiver learned that the assigned sex would never produce life like other people. Babies were for the unique, beautiful people. Nut dispensers were for special people, which was a kinder word than retarded. The Caregiver would only be able to give life by taking care of the sick people’s nut dispensers. Ugly and stupid people should not have children, as the Caregiver heard many times.
The Caregiver took duty of the proper resources and nursed the left hand with hydrogen peroxide in the little bathroom. The Caregiver knew to take everything apart, scrub each part clean of filth, then put it all back together again. Daddy taught this as field stripping, a protocol that evolved in the Caregiver’s imagination for each situation. This way Soldier Sir Neighbor could find everything in the little bathroom even without the left arm and right eye when the Caregiver communicated the colors to awaken him gently before leaving the tidy little trailer haus. The Caregiver knew the way to take ownership of things was to keep them clean. Money didn’t make much sense to the Caregiver, but cleaning products did. Bathed in a little hydrogen peroxide, then wrapped in some gauze, the ripped left hand was good to go. Like a womb gives life, the wound on the fleshy web on the left hand promised to save lives. The wound offered a lot of hope, and a solid strategy. Now the Caregiver had to get the nuts out of there and replace the L shaped tool, since that would make Sir feel safer. Void of its ammunition, the gun has less power to harm people. The other guns had been hauled out the back door to Neighbor’s haus. The Neighbor was very helpful, and understood to lock these guns up until the other Neighbor got home, and Sir felt much better. Nobody wanted to steal from Sir his weapons. Everybody wanted to return to Sir his health. The Caregiver knew that the perception of safety was likely more important to people than the reality of safety. Guns made people feel safer than trust, which was kind of sad.
Trust made people safer in reality, when other people were trustworthy. This was a square deal. They could still play with the L shapes sometimes, but not to go boom and kill people. These L shaped tools called guns were one thing, but they were not everything. The Caregiver wondered about why people went to jail for them and with them. True colors called that people responded to fear with love or hate. Love was the better way. Guns weren’t bad, but they were tools meant for a different day. Today was a new day, and the Caregiver was confident that Sir Soldier Neighbor would see the gun in the knife drawer and never know the Caregiver had stolen its ammunition to save his life. It was just a nut dispenser to the Caregiver, and it would be replaced one day after a thorough cleaning. Like a Pez candy dispenser, guns and ammunition had their place in time. However, they were not wonderful like the unique, beautiful people. All people were unique and beautiful, even the ones thought to be ugly and stupid. Special. Everyone was special in the greatest sense of the word. Each one of these unique, beautiful people was so highly prized and unique in the Caregiver’s eyes. Such began a good journey with call and response. True colors always called the Caregiver to respond properly. Master speaks silently through true colors. Anything else is just too much noise.
Depositing the nut dispenser in the little knapsack stocked full of other nuts, including but not limited to, a phrase the Caregiver learned in school detention, dry roasted & boiled peanuts, pistachios, cashews, almonds, and a few NATO rounds to deposit into the Neighbors’ gun bank. Lovely Neighbor refreshed the Caregiver’s supply of boiled peanuts in the little round, green Tupperware container. What a square deal. The Caregiver was absolutely delighted to trade the deadly nuts for the lively nuts.
The Caregiver sent the colors to the beloved Soldier Neighbor Sir. His sleepy eyes fluttered a bit. Approaching him slowly with no sudden motions, the Caregiver kissed his forehead sweetly and whispered, “Supper.” Sir smiled dreamily and sagged deeper into the shock pink plastic bean bag as the Caregiver turned off the window unit air conditioner and opened the jalousie windows to welcome the tenderness of sunset marinating the little home with the welcome promise of cool air. The Caregiver donned the oven mitts and pulled the Hamburger Helper from the little oven, scrubbed clean with vinegar. The Caregiver had taken great care to doctor it up with peppers and onions from the garden, responding to the true colors who called how to combine everything safely to make a healthy meal.
This has been an unofficial 23:59 report from Planet Earth. Imagine the possibilities when we connect through compassion and mutual guarantee.
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