LounginLevelersAA's blog: "Sinful Thoughts"

ONLY IN AMERICA... ...Do drugstores make the sick walk all the way to the back of the store to get their prescriptions while healthy people can buy cigarettes at the front. ...Do people order double cheeseburgers, large fries, and a diet coke. ...Do banks leave both doors open and then chain the pens to the counters. ...Do we leave cars worth thousands of dollars in the driveway and put our useless junk in the garage. ...Do we buy hot dogs in packages of ten and buns in packages of eight. ...Do we use the word 'politics' to describe the process so well: 'Poli' in Latin meaning 'many' and 'tics' meaning 'bloodsucking creatures'. ...Do they have drive-up ATM machines with Braille lettering. EVER WONDER .... Why the sun lightens our hair, but darkens our skin? Why women can't put on mascara with their mouth closed? Why don't you ever see the headline "Psychic Wins Lottery"? Why is "abbreviated" such a long word? Why is it that doctors call what they do "practice"? Why is lemon juice made with artificial flavor, and dishwashing liquid made with real lemons? Why is the man who invests all your money called a broker? Why is the time of day with the slowest traffic called rush hour? Why isn't there mouse-flavored cat food? Why didn't Noah swat those two mosquitoes? Why do they sterilize the needle for lethal injections? You know that indestructible black box that is used on airplanes? Why don't they make the whole plane out of that stuff?! Why don't sheep shrink when it rains? Why are they called apartments when they are all stuck together? If con is the opposite of pro, is Congress the opposite of progress? If flying is so safe, why do they call the airport the terminal?

A frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in-law, and four-year old grandson. The old man's hands trembled, his eyesight was blurred, and his step faltered. The family ate together at the table. But the elderly grandfather's shaky hands and failing sight made eating difficult. Peas rolled off his spoon onto the floor. When he grasped the glass, milk spilled on the tablecloth. The son and daughter-in-law became irritated with the mess. We must do something about Grandfather," said the son. I've had enough of his spilled milk, noisy eating, and food on the floor. So the husband and wife set a small table in the corner. There, Grandfather ate alone while the rest of the family enjoyed dinner. Since Grandfather had broken a dish or two, his food was served in a wooden bowl. When the family glanced in Grandfather's direction, sometime he had a tear in his eye as he sat alone. Still, the only words the couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he dropped a fork or spilled food. The four-year-old watched it all in silence. One evening before supper, the father noticed his son playing with wood scraps on the floor. He asked the child sweetly, "What are you making?" Just as sweetly, the boy responded, "Oh, I am making a little bowl for you and Mama to eat your food when I grow up." The four-year-old smiled and went back to work. The words so struck the parents that they were speechless. Then tears started to stream down their cheeks. Though no word was spoken, both knew what must be done. That evening the husband took Grandfather's hand and gently led him back to the family table. For the remainder of his days he ate every meal with the family. And for some reason, neither husband nor wife seemed to care any longer when a fork was dropped, milk spilled, or the tablecloth soiled.

I keep my paint brush with me Wherever I may go, In case I need to cover up So the real me doesn't show. I'm so afraid to show you me, Afraid of what you'll do - that You might laugh or say mean things. I'm afraid I might lose you. I'd like to remove all my paint coats To show you the real, true me, But I want you to try and understand, I need you to accept what you see. So if you'll be patient and close your eyes, I'll strip off all my coats real slow. Please understand how much it hurts To let the real me show. Now my coats are all stripped off. I feel naked, bare and cold, And if you still love me with all that you see, You are my friend, pure as gold. I need to save my paint brush, though, And hold it in my hand, I want to keep it handy In case someone doesn't understand. So please protect me, my dear friend And thanks for loving me true, But please let me keep my paint brush with me Until I love me, too.

People have told me, " Don't take the internet seriously. They have told me, "Those people aren't REAL. They have told me a lot about the internet. I have heard story after story of heartache. I have witnessed pain, sorrow and intense love. I have seen peoples hearts printed out for the world to see, in hopes it will touch someone. One of the most important things I have seen though, I'm not sure I could put into words. It's a CONNECTION. It's hard to imagine unless you've been there. When people get together, over the miles... state to state and country to country, and they connect. REALLY CONNECT!! It is amazing. Absolutely amazing. I'm not talking about the "man to woman" connection. I'm talking about the "friend to friend." I'm talking about some people you have met, that instantly you KNEW were going to be important in your life. The ones you laugh with, kid with, cry with, hurt for when they are hurting. They make you worry. They make you crazy! The ones who touch you deep inside when they are not there anymore, and make you wish they were. If you have ever experienced that type of connection with someone you have never met... face to face... you have indeed been blessed. I know, without a doubt, that I have!