Goldilocks Timing for Cremation

Somewhere between the strong sense of serenity the studious find in a good book and the maddening melancholy of the poverty line huggers.

That's where you will find me, rocking it up. (It's fine to smile at that line, I would in your shoes, socks, sandals or flippers)

If there are one or two things I find help me in life, it's

food and water, really.

Without them, I'd be a dead-assed Glaswegian Italian amalgam with elevated pretence of a poetic master.

(master with small m so you know I'm Humble with a capital H)

Can we be the master of our craft? Mastery sounds complete. Sounds finished, done, like all those we mourned so long ago.

Please call me a master when I am gone, not a second before. Masters are rules of slaves alone, not of crafts.

Masters of crafts are dead, buried and gone, lifeless, though their ideas and fruitions live on. On and on. Repeat timus infinitus.

There is no mastery in life, only amateurish attempts at greatness and value. A tree has not reached its peak until it has stretched out its bark and trunk full of sap, ants and other critters like ladybirds and caterpillars, over our heads.

What of the poverty line huggers, aren't they just studious in their own right? Did you happen to call attention to the discrimination?

Did your face crease and feel a twinge in your stomach at the comparison? Discriminative comparison.

We can but hope. Hope, as better and worse people than myself or even you have said, is all we have. Unless you are part of the misery squad that think all hope is lost.

Hope that laziness is not strapped on willynilly (no matter how often spellcheckers want me to change that to willingly…I won’t) to poverty line huggers, those with economic hardships, just because they don't frequent the local library as much.

Just remember, I'm not your master, 'til I'm at least six feet under and start to smell. Though, I'm more likely to be ash and dust in the breeze. Don't burn or celebrate me too early or late. Goldilocks timing for cremation.

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Thanks for reading!

Author's Notes: Answers on a postcard or in the comments section. Answers, mumblings, thoughts, encouragements, denouncements, backpats and face slaps. Thank you! In case you didn't realise, it's for the Unfiltered Challenge.

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