The Pessimist’s Beautitudes

I, a-man-just-like-thee, on this day no-one lays claim to, not in the spirit, and not on Patmos, having ruminated on the words of Solomon ibn David ibn Jesse, the lamenter of old, do agree with him of blessed memory, that beyond death, and above all there is, in addition to its joys and sorrows, that all of mans labour is in vain and vanity upon vanity. It is indeed better that man never was born. Therefor says I:

Blessed are the never-born, they neither experience joy nor sadness

Blessed are the dead, for sorrow is now alien to them

Blessed are the long-gone, the sands of time has wiped away their misdeeds

Blessed are they who have passed on, no harm can befall

Blessed are the truly fallen, never to rise again, therefore never to fall again

Blessed are the forgotten, because neither pain nor regret is remembered

Blessed are the shades, having no substance, are no longer bound to the earth

Blessed art thou, when thy time runs out, for only then art thou truly beyond the reach of the evil that men do

Blessed art thou when thy sojourn ends, it is the beginning of eternity.

Don’t go straight … to hell

I think I should stop lying to myself. Am I truly saved? I have indeed confessed with my mouth and I hope I believe with my heart … I can’t say I have ever heard from God. Yes, I have sometimes listened to the small still voice – which some say is one’s conscience.
I suspect it might have been more from a sense of guilt or a fear of being caught that made me listen to the voice. Was there ever really a voice?
Or just me weighing the pros and cons?

What have I made of so great a sacrifice by the Lord Jesus Christ?
How many times have I rededicated my life?
And fallen away again before the day is done?

I am just an ordinary man trying to stay out of hell. Is there anyone that’s truly ordinary? After all, we are all fearfully and wonderfully made. Should I be able to say I am a man? What have I done in this world to claim that title. Think of men of old, now those were truly men. So I have been here 30+ years, who cares?

I guess that’s the cup half empty

Then trying to make heaven would be the cup half full.

Or is it the other way round?

My greatest wish while I am alive is to be able to fly unaided. Soar into the sky like superman, walk the air currents freer than a bird. Should a grown man with the knowledge of physics and gravity have such wishes? I don’t know – may be that is why it’s just a wish?
If it is not possible in this life, would we be earth-bound in heaven? Or will we be able to take off at a moment’s whim?

One wish when I am dead, make sure I am really dead before you put me six under, even before you slide me into the little crib in the morgue. How about waiting a couple of days to allow me to marinate on the slap on a warm table top – to allow decomposition to set in just to be sure? Then a postmortem to be doubly sure. I guess a postmortem makes one as dead as a door-nail. Now that is being dead for certain.
Why? I don’t want to wake up gasping for breath and scraping at the finish in my coffin. Then have my lungs collapse painfully on itself from lack of air.

I think I have said enough.

And to the man at the S.A. embassy, sleep well tonight and may you wake up healthy tomorrow. May the sun shine lovingly on you and the day bring good things your way.  Because if I don’t wish you well, the alternative will be to say “may the devil take you and others such as you everywhere in the world!”