The world seems to be gimping all over the place.
The Middle East wounds all that’s there. Ebola ranges over West Africa. Muslim extremists take lives. And the situation doesn’t help in Ukraine. Central America is the scene of mobs’ violence that sends immigrants to the United States. In other words, at the sunset of my life, there are signs of the universe going to hell; other old men have said so.
In the Biblical sense, there are “wars and rumors of wars,” which goes a long ways to explain the situation – several guys meant in their times. Oh, no, mankind has currently the nuclear power that will wipe out the world’s population.
Take note: I turn 86 in October. Certainly the age contributes. I’m slow of foot. I live among my fellows, men and women. There are more “walkers” and canes aplenty – particularly in the dining room. I’ve fallen down and the ambulance crews helped me stand up again. God bless them!
My own gimping helped boost the world in perspective, not the other point of view; the world seems to be gimping all over the place. I’ve come to the understanding that the universe is crippled; I saw it 10 years ago, but I couldn’t explain.
But, no, whatever your particular world dances away, content for the favorite vodka and Scotch and turns a deaf ear to my words. I think this deadline escapes you. Turns out you have personal goal for whatever’s going on. The “wars and rumors of wars” existed long before I was born.
But the news that Toledo, Ohio, has a run on drinking water leaves me flabbergasted. American cities came too late in the 18th or 19th century to broach that problem. That’s a dilemma to any population, specifically it has become urbanized. We no longer see an animal, specifically a cow, dying of thirst at the old water-hole.
I’ve heard you, the time is not yet when we go to sleepless dreams and wind up dead. But that’s a mood I find myself attracted to. At 85, I no longer want life and its endless fripperies before me. I’ve been put through experiences, low and high. When I pronounce “enow,” that simple word should be enough – which is sufficient, in modern language.
My world can stop gimping.