The truth of the matter is . . .

Wednesday, May 22, 2019

She lit up my life. We were inseparable. There was nothing I wouldn’t have done for her.

I looked out for her, as she did for me. From the moment we met, I knew she was special. Let me tell you more about . . .

Her

I trusted her

with the secrets

I could not share

with others in my life,

as I knew she would not tell

anyone about my innermost desires and thoughts.

I treasured her

close, loving companionship,

her devotion, and passion,

in a way we both understood,

and appreciated her willingness to walk

down life’s circuitous paths at my side.

I watched her

look at me

as I did her,

each knowing we could count

on the other in stressful times

for support in addressing our serious problems.

I loved her

for being her,

unassuming, caring, and adventurous,

and hoped for a relationship

that would go on for eternity,

but knew in my heart, it would not.

I lost her

one sad day,

as she lay sleeping,

eyes shut tight, breathing labored,

at the foot of our bed,

and drifted off knowing of our love.

He was my best friend. We were like brothers. I met him in the fifth grade and all through school we were inseparable.

However, life does not always work the way we want it to. Things happen, as you will see in . . .

A Special Friendship

As a young boy, I had difficulty finding someone to call a friend, but

then he came into my life.

Growing up together, we blended and supported one another in our

quest to attain our dreams.

Today, a wealth of wonderful memories allows me to reflect on
our conversations about the world and our part in it.

I am indebted to him for traveling life’s sometimes-bumpy road with me,

as I jumped the hurdles toward reaching my goals.

I always admired his graciousness and acceptance of both my

strengths and weaknesses.

I envied his warmth and giving attitude, and it amazed me he asked

nothing in return.

Under dark skies, his smile brightened my day and his laugh made

my despair disappear.

It was my good fortune to have known him and to have had the chance

to spend many precious moments in his company.

Although our paths parted long ago, I still think of him and the important role

he played in my life.

I cannot thank him enough for the treasures he bestowed upon me and pray

he has been rewarded for such kindness.

I hope his journey has been smooth, and he has achieved the successes

he so deserves.

I cherish the special friendship that blossomed in our youth and helped

make me the man I am today.

Sometimes you find yourself in a situation where you must respond to what may be a call for help. For if you don’t, a life could be in jeopardy.

And you know your efforts will be appreciated, even if such appreciation cannot be expressed. This becomes clear in . . .

The Rescue

The night was dark—cold and silent.

The dogs barked furiously in the backyard.

A sharp piercing sound, an indication of danger, filled the air.

Squeals sent shivers down my spine.

Fear kept me pinned to the seat of my chair.

Then, courage, drawn from within, allowed me to act.

Slowly, cautiously, I moved toward the back door.

Flipping on the light switch, the scene came to life.

Trapped, a tiny hobbled traveler, not able to fly, screamed for help.

I exited the house and headed in the direction of the cries.

Reaching down between the dogs, I lifted up the young bird,

and carefully placed it back in its nest.

Did you ever have a dream where words with pictures stuck in your mind, but you had no idea what they meant?

However, they seemed to be telling you something—giving you directions to follow. So you might be inclined to . . .

PULL UP ↑ THEN DOWN ↓

The alarm clock on the nightstand blared. I reached over and slammed the top button, quieting the ringing monster. I couldn’t remember setting it and, if I did, why I had.

Jessica moaned, “Why’d that thing go off, Mark? You have an appointment this morning? I was sound asleep.”

“No, it’s Sunday morning. And I can’t even recall setting the alarm last night. Did you?”

“Me? Why would I set your alarm clock?”

“Well, if you didn’t do it and I didn’t do it, then who did?”

“How should I know, darling?”

“Perhaps a strange being from outer space penetrated the quiet of our sleep to indicate its presence,” I said with a snicker in my voice.

“Then where is it, my brilliant husband, with the wild scientific mind?”

“I don’t have a clue. Maybe it did its job by getting us up and has moved on?”

“That’s a fascinating explanation, my dear,” Jessica chanted, with more than a little bit of sarcasm.

“Could be it was trying to save us. Make sure we were ready for some impending disaster.”

“Keep this craziness up and you won’t be able to avoid the disaster coming at you from my hand, slapping you across the face to knock some sense into that screwed up noggin of yours.”

“Okay, I’ll stop. But Jess, I did have a dream last night. I can’t recall most of it. However, a picture has stuck in my mind.”

“Well, I’m listening. What picture?”

“It had words and symbols, like it was giving me directions to do something.”

“So, Mark, what did it look like? Is it something I shouldn’t see? Will it frighten me?”

“No, not at all. It’s a combination of four words and two symbols . . . ‘pull up’ followed by an arrow pointing upward, then a space, and ‘then down,’ followed by an arrow pointing downward.”

“Sounds like you were being told how to shut off the alarm clock you set for no reason at all.”

“Oh, well, maybe I did set it. That’s probably why I had the dream. Guess it’s nothing to be concerned about.”

“It doesn’t bother me. I’m not going to dwell on it. Let’s get up,” she asserted.

So I rolled out of bed, washed up, put on my Grayson University sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, slipped into my moccasins, and headed to the kitchen. As I opened the refrigerator door to get a glass of juice, I noticed the light on the panel above the refrigerator water faucet. It read, “Replace Filter.” I ambled over to the grocery closet and retrieved a filter, pulled up and then down to release the old filter and inserted the new one. At that moment, Jessica entered the kitchen.

“What’re you doing?” she asked.

“I just put in a new water filter in the refrigerator. And something eerie happened.”

“Eerie?”

“Yeah. I had to pull it up and then down.”

“So what’s weird about that?”

“It’s that phrase from my dream.”

“You’re just fixated on it. Let it go.”

“Okay. You’re probably right, as always,” I muttered.

Jessica threw together a quick breakfast of eggs and ham. We didn’t talk much, as I was preoccupied. I couldn’t get the picture, “PULL UP ↑ THEN DOWN ↓” out of my mind. It has to mean something, I thought to myself. But what?

I sat staring out into nowhere, half asleep, when Jessica let out a scream, “Earth to Mark. Come back to terra firma. You’re drifting into a sea of nothingness.”

Jerked back into reality, I gasped, “I saw something.”

“Not the ups and downs again?” she moaned.

“No, something very different. It was a room in a bank. But it was all blurry.”

“All right, what bank?”

“Holy cow! I know the answer—Central Savings and Loan.”

“Oh, you’re just making that up.”

“I wish I was. This scares me. I’m getting more messages.”

“Well, I’ve got things to do. If you have another revelation, like the bank is about to make us millionaires, let me know. Remember, we’re going over to Gary and Sarah’s for dinner tonight. So be ready by five.”

“If I wake up from my nap by then, I should be ready.”

“But it’s only 9:30 a.m. You’ve been up less than two hours. You need to take a nap?”

“I’ve got to see if I can receive any more messages.”

“What? Are you going crazy? Should I get help for you?”

“Hey, I know what I’m doing. And I’m not losing my mind. I’ll be in my big black leather recliner in the living room. Please, whatever you do, don’t wake me.”

“Why would I want to wake you? I witnessed more insanity this morning than I needed. When and if you awaken, let me know.”

I went into the living room and crawled into my recliner. I leaned back and closed my eyes. I began to drift. And then all hell broke loose. I found myself in a bank—Central Savings and Loan. Three women, each with flowing jet-black hair, dressed in black clothing, and wearing colombina black masks, surrounded me. Frozen in place in an executive’s desk chair, all I could do was listen, as they talked. They knew my name, but I had no clue who they were.

The tallest of the three, pointed toward me and looked at one of the other women. “He’s the one who has the missing piece to the puzzle, Monique,” she said in a strong, low voice.

“Antonia, will he give it to us,” Monique asked.

“I’m sure he will, Monique,” Antonia replied. “If not, Chantel knows the way to make him.”

“Yes, I do,” Chantal stated with emphasis.

I wanted to shake in fear of what might happen to me, but I couldn’t. Although my mind was active and alert, my body was frozen. Antonia looked at Chantal and nodded. Chantal approached.

“My darling, Mark,” she whispered. “Would you like me in exchange for the information you possess?”

I was tongue-tied. Nothing came out.

She repeated, “Would you like me?”

Oh, my God! I wanted to say yes so badly. But my ethical self rose to the occasion, and I drawled, “I’m, uh, a married man. I can’t.”

Monique then gave me a soft smile and turned toward Antonia and queried, “It is my turn now, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Antonia responded.

She stared at me and commanded, “You will accept what I do to you without question.”

She then proceeded to run her smooth long fingers through my hair and down the sides of my face. Anticipating the greatest experience in my life, I murmured, “Jessica, I’m sorry, but I’m unable to stop this.”

But then her hands surrounded my neck and her powerful fingers began to choke me. I had trouble breathing and became lightheaded. I had to get her to stop, but what could I do? And then I gasped, ‘I’ll give you anything you want.” With that, air flowed freely through my body.

“Good,” Monique said.

“What is it that you want?” I whimpered.

“You are in possession of the key that will unscramble the puzzle that will change our lives forever,” Antonia declared.

“What key? I don’t have any key.” My voice was strong, but I still couldn’t move.

“Oh, yes you do,” Antonia affirmed. “I know it is in your head, but I don’t know how to get to it. So you will have to help.”

“I’m confused. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Antonia, should I do it again?” Monique asked, laughing sadistically.

“Not just yet, my dear. Now Mark, think. Focus on the message you told your wife you received.”

“Message? I had a dream.”

“No, it wasn’t a dream. You were mistakenly sent information meant for me.”

“What are you talking about? I did dream. And it's starting to come back to me now. But it’s unclear.”

“No, not a dream. It was a mental transmission that you unknowingly intercepted. Concentrate and the image should return.”

So I did. “Central Savings and Loan,” I blurted. “This is where I am. Isn’t it?”

“Yes, but I need to know where in the bank I can find the combination to the vault.”

“How should I know? I’ve never been here before.”

“An image. You were sent an image. Focus.”

“You mean the picture I couldn’t get out of my mind before I fell asleep in my recliner?”

“Yes. That’s it. What did you see?”

“I don’t remember. But I’ve got to go to the bathroom real bad.”

My world became murky. Then I found myself in the bank’s restroom standing in front of a toilet staring at the toilet seat cover dispenser and the words—“ PULL UP ↑ THEN DOWN ↓.” And when I did, the numbers 17-5-37 appeared.

I started to lose consciousness. Everything went dark. But then, startled by strange noises, my eyes blinked and I saw Jessica staring at me. She had a strange look on her face. And I was home—back in my recliner in the living room.

“Oh, my God!” she shouted with joy. “You’re covered in money.”

What I saw made me quiver. “Jess, you’d better sit down,” I stammered. "You’re not going to believe what happened.”

Before I could explain, I heard laughter coming from behind me. I turned my head and saw three women, each with flowing jet-black hair, dressed in black clothing, and wearing colombina black masks. I looked back at Jessica. She had a huge grin on her face.

She chuckled and said, “Ladies, I knew we could make this happen.”

Tuesday, May 21, 2019

Our family sat around the kitchen table at dinner and shared our stories about what happened during the day. None were very intriguing.

After dinner, we enjoyed playing Monopoly on our game table in the family room and talked to one another about nothing of great importance. And so, I began to wonder what it would be like to hear interesting . . .

Table Talk

Some talk too much. Others talk too little. Then there are those who talk trash. And entertainers on TV and radio talk rap. This is quite confusing for something like me to be a part of.

Let me introduce myself. My name is Bill Table. Some say I’m an athlete, while others don’t always agree. I live in a world of hard knocks. I enjoy the banging around that I take, but at times the hits can be unnerving.

My mother, Kit, and father, Chess, met in a furniture store a long time ago. I don’t know when, as I didn’t come into their lives until much later. Mom is practical and serves meals to those who live with us. Dad is crafty and helps those who sit with him make all the right moves.

I’m the eldest of their three kids. My sister, Picnic, is an outside sort and stays in the backyard most of the time. My brother, Game, is up for any challenge that might come his way.

We were a very happy family until . . . “Hello, is anybody in there?” a voice echoed. Hearing no response, a key turned in the lock and two of the largest men I’d ever seen entered the house.

“Hey, Chuck, this must be the place. The boss said there were a lot of tables to pick up.”

“Yeah, Fred, that’s right. Let’s get started loadin’ the truck.”

I couldn’t believe what happened next. These two oafs grabbed me and my balls started going crazy—rolling back and forth and hitting each other. Where the hell are they taking me?

They dragged me through the open door and up a ramp onto a truck. And then they threw a blanket over me. I couldn’t see a thing. If I could cry out, I would have, but it wouldn’t have helped.

“One down, four more to go,” Chuck yelled.

Silence fell upon the van. I didn’t like what’d happened to me, but it appeared I wouldn’t be alone for long. Soon I heard trudging up the ramp.

“This thing’s damn heavy,” Fred complained.

“Seems to be workin’ against us. Almost lost a king and two knights,” Chuck said.

“Just pocket ‘em. Maybe we can ‘pawn’ ‘em later,” Fred responded.

Both men laughed. I heard, Dad, rattling around. He couldn’t be happy. The men left and it became very quiet.

Then the ramp creaked again. “This one’s quite bulky,” Chuck grumbled. “I think I pulled somethin’ in my back gettin’ it out of the kitchen.”

“Must be the glass top. It’s huge,” Fred gasped, as Mom’s legs banged on the floor.

“Hey, Fred, let’s take a break. We need a rest after luggin’ that one. Grab the lunch buckets. The next one to be loaded is in the backyard. It’s a beautiful day. That’ll be a great place for a picnic.”

“You said the magic word,” Chuck.

“Picnic?”

“No, break.”

The men shuffled off. I hoped they wouldn’t hurt Pic. She just liked to lounge in the sun and take it easy. And these two guys didn’t care if they made our lives miserable. Some time passed and then . . .

One of them shouted at the other. “My God, these benches are attached.”

They dragged themselves and Pic up the ramp into the truck and dropped her onto the floor so hard my balls rolled around out of control. Without saying a word, they left to get my bro, Game. He was “game” for anything, but I believed this would be too much even for him.

Covered up, I couldn’t see how the others in my family were doing. But since everything was quiet, I felt all was as well as could be expected.

And then I heard, crash.

“Oh, crap!” Chuck bellowed. “I think I broke my leg.”

“Well, as long as it wasn’t one of the legs on this thing, you’ll be all right,” Fred retorted.

“That’s easy for you to say. You ain’t in pain.”

After that ordeal, they placed Game so carefully in the truck, I didn’t know if he was there or not.

“Guess we’re done, Chuck. I’ll lock up the house and we’ll be off,” Fred grunted.

Be off? I thought. Be off, where?

The truck rumbled out of the driveway and onto the road. It seemed like hours passed. And then it stopped. The back door rolled up and I heard footsteps. Someone removed the blanket, letting me see the world again. My family seemed all right—safe. And then . . .

“People, stand back and let me see what we have here,” a man stated, as he looked at me. “Yes, yes, marvelous.”

“Well, sir, is it the real thing?” a bespectacled, middle-aged woman asked.

“Most certainly,” the man replied.

A warm feeling came over me. I looked at Mom and Dad. They seemed proud. And Picnic and Game appeared to be at ease. The crowd of onlookers cheered and talked about us—a whole lot of wonderful “table talk.”

It seems we’d been in that house for over one hundred years. And now, after the current owners had passed away, we were going to our new home, something the gentleman who’d removed my blanket referred to as a museum. He said we were antiques. And I guess that was a good thing.

With pen in hand, he checked off our names on his list and called them out for all to hear—“Kitchen Table, Chess Table, Picnic Table, Game Table, and Billiard Table.”

I wanted to scream out in delight, . . . “That’s me, Bill.”

Friday, May 17, 2019

Life’s road has twists and turns that can be confusing. What you think might have happened, may not have.

When you believe you have reached the end of the road, it may actually be a new beginning, as you will experience in . . .

MMDS

The wind blew through the trees on this chilly autumn morning. I sat on the Landon Park bench wondering what life was all about. As my mind drifted off, a very pleasant female voice broke into my silent world.

“Do you have the time, sir?”

“Oh, yes. It’s ten forty-five.”

She chanted, “Thank you.”

“Do I know you?” I gasped. “You look awfully familiar.”

‘No, I don’t think so.”

And then, without saying another word, this fifty-something woman, dressed in an attractive red and white jogging outfit and bright red running shoes, danced off.

I sat there stunned. Then I heard a familiar voice.

“Ben, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Turning to my right, I saw Randall staring at me. He looked concerned. “Oh, I’m all right. Just spoke with a women who looked like Maria.”

“Hey, that happens. You guys loved each other very much. Wish I had your luck with women.”

“But she’s gone. Not quite two years since the crash. Lost control of the car on Interstate 82. Crashed into the center divide. Coroner said she was dead on impact.”

“I know. At least she didn’t suffer.”

“Doesn’t make it any easier for me to deal with.” I started to tear up. Randall handed me a handkerchief that appeared to have never seen a washing machine. But I used it anyway.

“I know it’s hard when something like that happens,” he said in a caring manner.

“You do? You’ve never been married. I’ve known you over thirty years. Have you ever had a serious relationship?”

“Well . . . no. But . . .”

“But what? You can’t possibly know how I feel.”

“Okay, not in that way. However, you’re my best friend and I care about you. You’ve got to go on with your life.”

“What life? I’m sixty-nine years old. How much longer do I have?”

“The way you’re talking, you might as well just end it now.”

“Maybe I should.”

“Come on, I wasn’t being serious. I’m seventy-one and I haven’t given up on finding my soul mate.”

“You’re already done that. And you’re walking all over her.”

“Huh?”

“She’s on the bottom of your shoes, my friend”

“Oh, I get it—sole mate—not soul mate. See, you smiled.”

“I guess I did. Just a little one, but, yes, I did smile.”

After Randall and I grabbed a bite to eat at “Jordan’s Lunch-A-Bunch Truck” that serviced the park, we said our good-byes and I moseyed on home. All I could think about was the woman I’d encountered in the park. Maria was fifty-nine when she died. This woman appeared to be around the same age. And she looked so much like Maria. Had Maria returned?

These crazy thoughts marched through my mind. I needed to flush them out and get on with my life. Maybe Randall was right. I needed to meet a woman—a real woman, and not the reincarnation of Maria.

As I readied myself for bed, I seemed to be at peace. I had a restful night and awoke to a beautiful sunny day. And yes, I had a smile on my face.

As I sat at the kitchen table munching on a bagel and cream cheese, the phone on the counter rang. I reached over and grabbed it. “Hello,” I mumbled, a piece of bagel still lodged in my mouth.

“Hey Ben, it’s me, Randall. What’re you doing today?”

“Uh, I hadn’t thought much about it.”

“Well, I have an idea about something we both need to do.”

“Okay. What?”

“Our lives are stuck in neutral and we’ve got to push them into drive.”

“So, how do you propose to do that?”

“A dating service.”

“Aw, come on. Why do we need a dating service? We live in a senior community. There are lots of women to choose from.”

“But they’re all wrong for us. And I should know. I’ve lived here ten years and who do I have in my life—you and a pair of shoes. And God knows, I’ve tried to find someone.”

“I don’t know. A service costs money and I’ve heard you have to fill out all kinds of forms. And most people don’t tell the truth. They want to appear better than they are. So how do you know what you’re really getting?”

“Do you ever know?”

“I knew with Maria. She was my dream come true.”

“I hear you, man. She was the greatest. But she’s gone. And she’s not coming back.”

“Yeah, I know. I feel so alone. But I don’t have the courage to do anything about it. Guess I’m not ready.”

“You’d better be ready soon. Time’s running out. Give the service a try.”

“Why are you so sure the service is the way to go. Are you not telling me something? Have you tried it?”

“Well, no. But I’ve thought about it a lot. I guess I need a kick in the butt to move me in the right direction.”

“Maybe we both do, Randall. It could be my time to start life over again. How do we do this?”

“Meet me in hour at Rocky’s and I’ll share the information I’ve collected on MMDS with you. It could contain the answers to a better life.”

“MMDS? Sounds like a disease to me. Oh well, I’ve got nothing better to do today. See you at the diner.”

I hung up, put my dishes in the sink, and trudged off to the bedroom to dress. Twenty minutes later I headed to Rocky’s.

The day was chilly, but the glow of the bright sun made the mile walk to the Herald Square Shopping Center a pleasure. MMDS—what the heck do the letters stand for? I thought.

When I reached the shopping center, I swung around the corner and entered the double-glass doors of Rocky’s Sports Bar and Grill. My eyes scanned the restaurant and I saw Randall sitting in a booth in the corner, with brochures strewn all over the table. He motioned to me to join him. He swept all of the brochures except one to the far end of the table.

Somewhat anxious, I moved with caution toward the booth and slid in across from him. The one remaining brochure stared up at me. Across the top it read, “MMDS, Senior Focus.”

“Okay, so what do I do now?” I asked.

“Open it, stupid. Or should I say, coward?”

“I guess that makes two of us.”

I opened the brochure and, for the first time, saw what the letters MMDS, meant—“Miraculous Match Dating Service, a resource for seniors focused on bringing the past and present together for a miraculous future."

I shook my head in dismay. I looked up at Randall, but he was gone. And I wasn’t in the diner. I lay in a bed in a very strange room. I was hooked up to monitors. “What kind of dating service is this?” I moaned.

A voice interrupted my confusion. “Doctor, he’s come out of it. Yes, I’ll do that.”

A woman in a bluish-gray uniform slipped the phone into the front pocket of her jacket. Before I could get a word out, she left the room.

Moments later, other uniformed men and women flooded my space—taking my pulse, checking my heart and reflexes, and seeing if my eyes followed their moving hands. What the hell is this all about?

Then I saw her again—the beautiful woman from the park, dressed in a gorgeous green dress and not a jogging outfit. She smiled—the warmest smile I’d ever experienced and took my hand in hers. It felt so good. So real. MMDS certainly came through. They helped me find my soul mate.

Then I heard a voice, a soft, loving voice. “Ben, it’s Maria, your wife.”

“But you can’t be. You died in the accident almost two years ago.”

“No, Ben. You were in that accident, not me. You’ve been in a coma since then. I’ve been waiting for you. And now you’ve come back to me.”

“But Randall, the dating service—MMDS, getting on with my life.”

“Ben, I’m sad to say, Randall was driving the car when it hit the center divide. He died at the scene. You survived. And the MMDS you’re referring to is the Monterey Medical Doctors Sanatorium—your home for the past two years.”

“This is all so confusing.”

“I know, but things will become clearer now that you’ve come out of the coma. All that is important is that I love you and we can get on with our lives.”

Wednesday, May 15, 2019

This is my land—the land our forefathers groomed for peace and prosperity.

But so many contrary things have happened since we became an independent nation, we are left to wonder if what was envisioned in the past is today a . . .

Dream Or Reality

This is my land—

a country where all dreams come true.

This is my land—

a world of possibilities for me and you.

This is my land—

where streets are a safe place to be.

This is my land—

an environment that welcomes all humanity.

This is my land—

an arena where all opinions can be heard.

This is my land—

where everybody is taken at their word.

This is my land—

a place where all available resources are first rate.

This is my land—

where leadership is dependable and great.

That was my land—

as I thought it should be.

That was my land—

before I was hit by reality.

Will the rough waters of life become calm again? Or will we be in constant turmoil?

These are the puzzling questions we face on a daily basis—the ones
that often leave us . . .

Lost And Confused

Once a little raindrop floated

from the sky and landed

in the middle of a gentle pond.

It rested on its surface,

as if at peace with the world,

happy and delighted to be alive.

But then other droplets landed

and vied for position,

creating turmoil in this tranquil land.

Somewhat shaken by this turn of events,

the little raindrop quivered,
and seemed lost and confused.

The sky blackened and rumbled,

as if angered by the disorder

below in the rippling waters.

Distressed, the little raindrop

spun in circles around a lily pad,
and sought protection from the demon above.

But then, a wisp of light

filtered through the dark clouds,

bringing hope and serenity.

As the glow became brighter,

no longer lost and confused,

the little raindrop breathed a sigh of relief.

We are in a perpetual search for the answers that will improve our lives—a difficult task, complicated by the nature of our leadership and their quest for power and control.

Yet, we must not give up, as becomes clear in—

And Yes . . .

Do you think global warming is fact or fiction?

Do you think Donald Trump’s words reflect brilliance or ignorance?

Do you think drone’s patrolling above benefit or hurt mankind?

We argue on television and in the press, with much controversy and little

promise of agreement.

Answers to these questions elude us, but we still must engage in
the debate.

And yes, society grows from these differences in ideas and attitudes.

Do you think law enforcement creates an image of safety or fear?

Do you think the clergy helps us to become better human beings or leads
us down a path we should not follow?

Do you think doctors care about their patients and take the time to listen
or just go through the motions for their own benefit?

At times, we feel trapped and do not know whom to turn to in our hour of

need.

Answers to these questions elude us, but we still must ask them to survive.

And yes, society benefits from our efforts to find these answers.

Do you think we have the right to question authority or should we just

obey?

Do you think the rules placed upon us by government officials have our best

interests at heart or only theirs?

Do you think truth has become stranger than fiction when we bend it to

survive?

We exist in a world where we question our purpose in our fight to
maintain our dignity.

Answers to these questions elude us, but we have to seek them out to try to

preserve our freedom.

And yes, society becomes a better place because we care.

So search for the answers to improve life,

For we must emerge from the depths of our dark ocean to escape our

fears.

Let the tide carry us to the sands of a tranquil beach.

Keep digging beneath the surface to uncover life’s truths.

For in spite of life’s inconsistencies, hope will triumph over confusion.

And yes, society’s future brightens as a result of our open minds and
caring hearts.