Two Stories

Story The First

Once upon a time…..

There was a planet. It was peopled with “Humans”. So it was that they came to refer to themselves.

They had dreams. They believed that without a dream, a vision of them rising above their peers, making a name for themselves as individuals, making a mark in the time span allotted to them known as “Life”, (without this purpose) the gift of living, existing was valueless, wasted.

Unfortunately, due to this view of life, due to this measure meted out amongst them, much “Drama” became perpetuated amongst them. Some became cast adrift, discarded. Ironically, this casting adrift was orchestrated by self. Yes, this was the individual’s reaction to this “Measure” which such a society let loose among its population. Yes…..

The Drama of substance abuse became an epidemic. Suicide coincided. Homelessness. Crime against the rest of the society was perpetuated by some whilst under this pressure to “succeed”, be perfect, make a mark.

The success of many drove many to Failure. 

Ironic.

And meanwhile among this society emerged a middle person. Some of those afflicted decided to hide amidst this chaos. They were called “Analyst”. Psychologists and the medicating ones. Psychiatrists. They were ostentatiously looking for answers while hiding, accepted. Selfishly looking for answers. While secretly posing as “helpers”, better, superior. All else had to pay for their quest. The noble ideals of their professions were abandoned for quick results. Therapies which were “modern”, expected to yield quick results. A SciFi horror.

They could not come to terms with the focal point of their frailty. A center which was responsible for their created system of measures. They failed to see that they lived amidst a Dualism. Nothing but extremes. Succeed or fail. Measure up or measure down in rebellion. This ruler, this measure came from within. While always the need was extant they failed to see that they responded in Dualities.

They did not possess that which they aspired to; A Life

But it was in this fashion they chose to continue in.

They continued on with idols they erected as directed from this absence within. Science mimicking what already existed, comedians criticizing the belief in a Creative Entity, alluding such a being as being ludicrous because children were born with sicknesses.

Everyone strove for “Celebrity”, the “Sayers” and seers, “listen to me for this is why I am celebrated amongst you”.

The End

======================================================

Story The Second

A man claimed He came from the Creative Being. To a planet.

He disregarded customs as perceived by the denizens of said planet. He was different. He asked them to believe in the purpose, the Value of the Creative Being. To discard their idea of Value. It scared them, for they believed in their idea of value.

So they labeled him a heretic. He seemed to espouse the idea that they, anyone of them, could be equal to the Creative Being, IE a kindred, family. Mostly they resented the accusation that they were lacking. That they had much to aspire to and thus gave them the idea that they were not equipped to make it. Could not fulfill that which would please the Creator (Gee this reminds me of Cain and Abel).

So they killed this man.

But a strange thing happened….

Lunatics claimed to have seen Him rise on the 3rd day. Not to have died. Not to have remained dormant in the grave as was wont. To this day upon that planet people still follow the message of this man, in fact, are happy to follow His message.

Substantially; I lack something, God the Creator has it, and if I ask Him for it, He who has saved it in the hopes that I would respond this way, would freely give it, continue to hold it in good faith til I shed this life. Leave this prison. Hold it for me.

While here I can profit from this trust. I can rise to find myself sitting in heavenly places. Looking down upon the cares of this life. 

The End

I can be reached at; turbans713@yahoo.com, and
https://kingrat1397@gmail.com, and at Facebook as Miguel Angel Oquendo. (Mickey, of Huachuca City, Az.)

Or you can contact these folk; Rev. Bob Schembre (Missouri), or Ministerio APG  (My Brother, Pastor Angel L. Oquendo, Spanish and English, Florida) both on Facebook.

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