Three blind mice went out the window twice, which way to go they didn’t know but Mary’s little kitchen looks nice.
Three blind mice took pictures with cameras at night, what they did when they saw what they could not see was to chase after their tails with fight.
Three blind mice look nice out the window at night, the kitchen is clean nothing to be seen and the cat sits with Mary in delight.
NO one was at the station to pick me up. I sat there for an hour and waited. I felt empty. I could have taken a taxi, but what would the point be . . .I didn’t bring my key. Sorry me. At least it was warm sitting in the train station rather sitting outside on my steps, in the cold light rain and windy.
Welcome home -no-you welcome home. Mom it is good to have you back. No, it is good to have you back. Mom what are you doing here. Its my home, i live here. Mom we thought . . .Good enough, mom said, that explains everything. No mom . . .We thought you were coming home tonight. Thats nice . . .It’s only a seven hour train ride. Now where is the baby. Come here little one, gramma wants to have a big hug and kiss. Now that was great.
The baby hugged me tight and kissed my cheek and rub my arm. “Grammas back?” Yep. “Grammas home from friends?” Yep. “Gramma play cars?” Sure . . .We can play cars. “Miss you?” Yes, gramma missed you.
Then the excitement was over. Welcome home.
It was nine-ten in the morning and the air was cold, the train was running a little late as she and he, stood there waiting. The words that were exchanged between the two were next to nothing. She did not want to leave and had nothing to say. Of course this was due to the fact he wanted her to leave, and was wondering what was keeping the train.
He wanted to go but waited anyway, not to look bad, in front of all the other people, waiting with their departing friends or family members. But she was only a second time visiter, he had enough and wanted his time alone back to normal. Where is the train! Twenty minutes of silent had passed then the whistle blew steam as the train neared the station. They said there good-byes as she kissed him on the cheek, turning and not looking back she boarded. The only thing in her head was, don’t cry, he won’t let you back, and don’t turn around, not to let anyone see he is not watching . . .He left.
On the train she was shocked as to how full it was. There was no space for the luggage so she pulled and dragged the heavy suitcase along the narrow passage way, until she wanted to pull no more. To her left sat the woman who stood outside on the platform, looking at her like she was outdated or something like that. She kept this frown on her face every time their eyes locked. She was not going to sit there. To her right sat a young man, his skin was of the darker color and he looked up at her with brown caring eyes. “May i sit beside you?” He smiled. “Yes, certainly, you can” He sat straight allowing her room and she plopped herself down dragging the large luggage bag in between the back of the seat in front of her and her cramp up feet under her, then removing both heavy bags, hanging off each, of her shoulders. She made it on board without crying and was now on her way home to be alone.
On the train, sitting and waiting for the departure. She didn’t even look to see if she could still see him standing on the platform, but as the train pulled out of the station she did look to see if she could see his vehicle. She did not. He was out of there like he had important things to do. Like eat. And fix something for someone. But mainly to get back to his daily routine. ALONE.
It was minutes later the Ticketmaster came by checking on the new passengers, to see if they all had been seated, as the train started moving on its way. The Ticketmaster stopped at the girl and asked.” Is everything okay here?” That all depends, she said. “On what?” He asked. Space, she said. “Space?” He became confused for seconds then he saw her sitting conditions. “Why did you not put your case away?” Well it’s all full up isn’t it . She said. “Here, let me take this baggage for you and i will find room.” She pulled her feet in more and was glad to be able to extend. Which of course caused the man sitting beside her, to speak. And speak he did and so did she. They found out much about each other, enough for the one, to have to kill the other. Wiped out, one might say. Never to share what they learned. This, only showing you people, should mind their own businesses and not to ask the wrong questions.
One of them was going to die before the next stop. His home . . .Her home. One of them had a secret that was not allowed out. But let it out showing courtesy, common respects. If some one talks to you, one talks back or not. Should talking be told then certain areas are to remain unspoken of. But of course we all have persuadable ways, that some people cannot say no to, and they talk too much, as in this case. To much talk. Some times people are unaware of what too much talk is.{call them what you want},[dummies], as far as it goes in most people’s eyes.. [ Just plain stupid one may say]. But just not to the talker, most of the time, what they talk about is simple and without prejudice, innocent another may say. But even innocent things often get hurt or maimed or something more horribly than some ones, Loving life of grief.
All the same, something innocent was going to take place causing a bad reaction, and in the end the innocent dies without knowing what they knew or just on the verge of fully understanding what they learned, before they died.
Death is a horrible thing and at times it is a good thing. It all depends on the individual, rather ill or innocent. If you understand what i mean.WHICH HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH BEING MURDERED OR KILLED> TOTALLY DIFFERENT DYING ALL TOGETHER . . .
She became quite comfortable with him, as he, became easy with her. They chatted most of the way to the next station, up until the point, where of one of them would be leaving the face of the earth on a train. The mistake of the questions, concerning art, came about. Graphic designer, came out of a topic on what each of them did, as work. A writer and a graphic designer. They both had familiar interest in each others job description, wow-ing and listening and digging more deep into each others lives, thrilled to find they had plenty in common. It was like one of them were the words and pictures, while the other, was the designer-printer, sort of speak. But somewhere along the line going down those tracks, they trusted each other to speak freely and honest, laughing and funning and learning and everything became calming to her soul about going home and not cry for her man. She knew deep down she was not of his caliber and would never belong. As this beautiful skinned man consoled her with his words of finding her peace in her crying heart, she understood exactly what she did mean to her fleeing man ransacking, it out off the train station and away from the platform away from her, and her over due stay. She even giggled at the thought once. This colored man listened as her crying heart spill out, when she, was indeed finished, he feed her with words, of his cultural beliefs, causing waves of peace to settle in her and she became just another passenger like everyone else.
This man was indeed wise. The whole time he was on his iPod,or iphone or what ever you want to call them. He asked lots of questions and she gave honest answers . . .Why not, she was never going to see him again. She did not even think to ask him his name, nor did he offer to know hers.
It was a long ride from Kitchener to Toronto, and that is where they would part never to see each other again, just this one passing as being a passenger on a train like hundreds of others and chatting. What are the chances of ever seeing one another again in this world . . .NONE . . .So talk about anything everything, spill your guts, they can’t go anywhere, they paid for the seat they are sitting on and non other. Happy ride. Should you be so lucky so did she. She felt of all the full places in the world, she should be proud to sit with this man. But of course like all good things they too come to a halt. Stop! Over. End.
Just as the conductor announced the train would be coming into station in about 10 minutes one of them produced a photograph saying they only took the picture because they found it very offensive. The picture was taken of a wall with graffiti printed across the gray parging. EAT THE RICH. The underlining of these words, in its self, did, feel like a power struggle emanating a code meaning DON”T MESS WITH US feeling, and now that you know of us you can’t stay, feeling.
EAT THE RICH . . .What does that even mean?
All sorts of things were going through each their minds as they looked deep into one another and asked questions and answered them on EAT THE RICH.
People don’t usually underline words unless they want you to mind them, to heed each word written. To go as far as to spray paint a dot after the line. Even the more reason to adhere to them. EAT THE RICH. Is this a new world order?
The fun of the questions and chatter had to come to an end, there was about eight more minutes before the train would come to a complete stop letting people off and more on. Time became crucial to one of them. They had to find out if too much was said or not enough and then deal with it no matter the cost. EAT THE RICH. And indeed one of them was rich which one, the writer or the graphic designer. Another question came out when the cell phone picture was presented. ” So is that your graffiti out there now?” They both chuckled or giggled then looked into each others eyes. The designer chuckled saying. “Yes, yes . . .No that is not mine. I do different designs, i have clients.” They looked at each other. ” I just showed you the picture because it is disturbing to me and i wanted to know what you thought because you are a writer. The air around each of them became quiet, it felt serious somehow to each of them in their own way. There was a feeling of betrayal and fright. And now both sets of eyes glistened with a glossy film. TEARS.
She thought how this man soothed her very being, helping her to understand the man she left at the station had feeling for her of passion, and, a lost love that he want to keep, only in The Love lost united bond. He helped her to understand that she too wanted to keep him close but do so as a double life never to be able to reconnect but held in a Loving bond where we can always find each other and visit. And not this.
EAT THE RICH. They both knew the reading had to be explained no matter the cost. They both now knew, these seen words, are words, that have to be told, once seen, options had to be carried out.
Some words are not meant, to be seen. We all know that . . .Henceforth the swat team banging down your door, cause you stumbled onto, into, something by mistake, or you knew exactly what you were doing all along, and need out now.
This passenger, was so nice to her giving his time and healing words. He did not like to, for some reason or other, see her cry. He looked into her soul as he asked his questions and she gave valid reasons, of a pass Love she ran away from, never to be relieved of the pain in her heart. He could see in her soft cry how she still Carried great Love for this man. He embraced her sorrow and relished in the very though of listening to a story of pure Love being torn apart and coming back together, he could see this woman, sitting at his side, does not know if she and this man she left at the station are friends. He saddens at the thought, that she could not tell him what she though she was to this man she Loves. “What does he think of you.” “What?” “How does this man you Love and visit, way out here, feel about you. You must be friends. Yes?” He was astound when she ripped her body around to face the aisle and softly cry. It was maybe ten minutes he waited for her to respond or not. He really thought is was the end of their chatting and he felt he must have done something to make her stop and turn and cry, but what? He is a man, and what does he know, is what, someone else would say to him. So he left it at that and continued on with his ipod or iphone or what ever he held.
Time pulled the train slowly to the under-station and some of the other passengers were leaving their seats to retrieve their small bags from the over-head storage or make their way to the front of the car and take out their luggage bag and stand waiting for the train to fully stop.
It was like simulation when they both took a last look, at the cell picture and each other, before the picture was swiped away.
Five minutes remained before hitting the station, then one of them said with a queer look, on their face, like a fun joke if you will.
” Now, what if i was to tell you, i know you are rich, and i followed you on this train because you took this picture, and now, i have to eat you. Eat you because you are rich. What if this is not a joke. What if you are never getting to where you are going.”
EAT THE RICH THE END
AND THEN
A strange noise came from behind both of them. They never got off the train.
But let me tell you, you will never find and clues of this or them. But two people were told, the story would be told. EAT THE RICH.
You rock . . .No you rock . . .
You are awesome man . . .No you are awesome. Man.
Happy Easter to you . . .No happy Easter to you.
I changed my cloths three times now and i am still not fine with what i have on. We leave for Bowling at 2:00 which right now it is 11:28 am.
I sit and eat telling myself that tomorrow i will exercise it all off. I go on a trip for two weeks and i was wanting to lose weight. I leave Tuesday, this gives me two more days to lose the weight.
When depression set in, things, get out of your control and a part of you, has a drive to live. You do live, but in a way you are not accustom to. Which of course confuses you. Because things are normal to you, you are just not happy.
Tell you what you gotta do . . .Look around yourself to the people around you and take in what you see. What do you see? People who look just like you whether you understand it or not. But see how they are dressed . . .Yes differently than you . . .Al though some like you. Wait . . .Are these the happy people are they sad people are they a mixture of happy sad. You should come to see that it is not the cloth that make the people, it is the people themselves, making themselves. So see . . .You are fine. Most people do not care about the cloth on your back they do care however care, how you are. Happy or sad.
It is the person who wears the cloth, not the cloth on the person.
YOUR ATTITUDE WITH THE CLOTHS ON YOUR BACK. You can mak anything look good if you forget and just be you.
Eating Eating eating eating eatingeatingeating. DEPRESSION eating
Eating depression. eat it don’t eat it . . .hmm . . .If i eat it, i, will feel i did something that i could, and no one stopped me or told me not to eat or take it away or say how silly or any thing at all.
Depression eating . . . If i do not eat it, i, will be doing what they, want me to do. why should i listen to them tell me what i can eat even . . .Frig that, i will eat what i want when i want. And now i am happy i did what i wanted. To eat.
Why do we choose food for comforting . . .WHY FOOD? BECAUSE IT FILLS US.
Do you understand, we do things, that we do or like, until we are tired or satisfied or finished, you know, had enough . . .Well, when certain, people, have nothing in their lives that they like to do, they use FOOD and eat until they too are finished, satisfied or what ever, had enough. Food is always on hand.
Let me change one more time. Please.
Hear is what you gotta do, find a different attitude. Don’t harbour food anywhere close to you, make sure you have a fair walk to get it. AND FIND A HOBBY. WHEN YOU ARE BUSY YOU DO NOT EAT. DEPRESSION is such a bother. Now, keep what you have on, stay away from any mirrors, and be YOU.
Today i re watched a movie called 172 hours . . .FANTASTIC SCRIPT FANTASTIC ACTOR.
I watched this movie last night and again this day. It took me to understand the name of the movie to days . . .172 HOURS.
The actor SOLD THAT MOVIE and nothing else.
picture this pee-wee Hermon playing the part. Sure, the spot, they choose to make the movie was spectacular. But what would it matter if the person acting the part was horrible at acting.
YOU WOULD FIND A DIFFERENT MOVIE TO WATCH, that is what.
I’m telling you 172 Hours is a fantastic watch for movies and actors.
We have been sitting here for hours and we want to go home. We are hungry and cold and have not slept for days. How did this happen . . .How did we come to this place. MOMMY
The family left for vacation Thursday night, they were going to the big city to visit with a family member that left the farm twenty-three years ago to be a big banker. They tired of farm work and raising all the younger siblings. They wanted something more. There had to be something more. So at the age of 17, one night they just left, leaving a note of love and good-bye’s, taking some cloths and bread.
So now twenty-three years later a family member of their’s is happy to come visit with their children, a boy and two girls. The drive was horrible with the one child always crying and fighting and just not happy. This spoiled it for everyone. Especially the driver. The single mother. A trip she would never take again. well not with the kids.
The noise and arguing became too much, she exploded pulling the car over to the side of the road. This was not a good thing. What happened was, without thinking, she actually through the car’s shift lever into park, before slowing down, before stepping on the break, before anything . . .Then she screamed in a banshee cry . . .I SAID BE QUIET! GET OUT!
Everything became calm again, and all back in the car again, but now, the car did not want to drive very far or pick up speed at all. What was going on now. Each time she tried the vehicle drove for a short distance only reaching up to forty miles per hour, and dying down to a stop. It was insane and she as alone with three children and there was no way she was going to sit in the parked car, on a high-way alone. So she put her car through hell until she reached an open gas station.
YOU JUST CAN’T THROUGH YOUR CAR INTO PARK, you have to stop first.
What? As confused as she was, she understood, during all the fighting and noise the kids were doing, she did something to the car. SLAMMED the shift lever into park. But luck was on her side, what ever the gas station man did under the hood her car worked.
On the road again with the BIG warning . . .NEVER AGAIN.
The rest of the way was quiet to a degree where every once in a while she checked to see if they were sleeping. It was not often she became mad, but when she did they knew not to push, shove or dare. They were good the rest of the way. Right now the children are the ages of 10, 8 and 4. It is her first time on the road with the children, where the drive is eight hours long. She has never driven longer than 45 minutes. Now here she is two and one half hours on the road and falling a sleep. It has all been too much for her mind and now her eyes. Lucky, she could see up a head there is a small service station. She would pull over. “Listen to me . . .I have to rest my eyes or we will crash and die. NO ONE LEAVE THIS CAR.”
It was twenty minutes later when the boy child shook her, telling her, she had to wake up, the girls were in the washroom, screaming and won’t come out, and there is water all over the place. WHAT ? The child repeats everything, and she fully wakes. When she reaches the restrooms, it was a mess and the children were loud and crying and water everywhere. MESS INDEED. She somehow in visioned the looks she received when she opened the door to this establishment and now the looks she was getting as she removed these two crying girls from the washroom, escorting them through the restaurant where people were eating and trying to enjoy a nice meal while her children were out of control and out, on their own. She could not help but to giggle and do her VERY BEST not to bust out with laughter. She did see the lighter side of things at times, and this was one of those times. Not to bother though . . .The washroom was not that bad, she cleaned up what she could leaving the water on the floor, there was nothing she could do about that. But the faces. The people were looking at her like she was something out of the deep. The gasps some of them gave at her, was the start of the giggle. These people went dead silent and watched her every step. She was sure some of them left their seats and watched out the window. That is when she lost all control and laughed. At that point it was hard to give the children trouble. So she asked questions instead. She should do better not to all a sleep with children on the loose. They had to pee and were caring enough not to wake her.
It was hours later when she arrived at a little town called Beaverton. They made it alive. The children were happy to get out of the car and so was she . . .Yippee. She sang, we’re here, because we’re here, because we’re here, because we’re here. We’re here, because we’re here, because we’re here, because we’re here. “Why are you singing that mommy . . .What does that mean?” It means we are here, safe and alive.
They were greeted by her family members and hugs and kisses were plenty and everyone was happy. Come on in and have a bite to eat . . .You must be famished. “Mommy will the Easter bunny know where we are?” Everyone chuckled at the smallest child. ” He will have to come a long way.” Said the happy uncle. “He goes everywhere.” Said the brother. “You don’t have to worry.” Before they reached the house they were all greeted by him . . .The eldest son of her older brother. He was somewhat trouble but no one really knew this . . . He was quiet about it, and kept to himself, most of the time. ” Hey kid how old are you.” “Ten.” The boy said with a coy smile. “Eleven tomorrow.” He flashed his teeth. Everyone big, laughed, not the older boy. “How old are you.” The ten yer old asked. The taller boy peered down at the kid . . .”18.”
In the house they all had a bit to eat, and while the children played and talked, the adults cleaned up and chatted. So far everyone was happy. So far there was no trouble or arguing and fighting or anything to cause mishaps. So far everything was perfect. Tomorrow they would all go into the big city and shop. Tomorrow the boy would be eleven and they would have a small party for him. Then Sunday would be Easter. And the children will hunt for eggs. Everyone would be happy.
In the big city, they parked the large van in the parking lot and went into the huge shopping mall. Wow, the kids had never seen such a thing as this massive store, let along their mother, she was just as marveled as they. Coming from a small country farm and all, this is, something spectacular, for them all to see. “Listen . . .Being how i am going to be here for one week, i would like to play that lottery game you wrote to me about. I even have some numbers picked out.” She reached down into her bag and pulled out a piece of paper, with six numbers scribbled down. She handed the paper to her older brother. “What do you think.” He read out the numbers.
” 9-13-15-40-23-38. Not bad actually, your missing one number, but these look good.” She took the paper. ” No way . . .Now what.” “Pick one more number silly.” “No what i ment was, these numbers are special and i can’t think of any more things that are special.” Her brother smiled down at her . . .”How about today . . .Is this special enough.” “Sure we can make it one never to forget. Seven it is then.” He took the paper and scribbled down number 7, gave it to his son, telling him to go get a ticket with all these numbers. Then he told the boy to meet them at the food court, where they all would enjoy a meal out.
“Can we come.” Asked the middle child . . .She was tired of looking at all the stuff her mom wanted to see and thought this was a chance to get away, and maybe see toys. “Yeah, can we.” Asked the birthday boy. Before the 18-year-old could speak up, his dad told him to take the younger ones and keep a good eye on them. “Sure.” But not a happy sure. And off they went, but not without hearing their mom’s last words . . .Hold your sister’s hand and stay together. Seconds later everyone was out of everyone’s sight. The mall was full of people, of course this is the last shopping day until after Easter.
“Shouldn’t the children be back by now.” She asked, looking at her watch and around the mall. “Well they should be . . .But you know kids . . .They very seldom do what they are told. No worries though . . .They probably stopped to look at every window in the place. “Yeah maybe you’re right . . .kids and toys.” But she was unsettled with this reasoning, the children were gone now for two hours and this is unusual for her boy, she knows better in him to keep away for to long. And to long according to her is half an hour. He knows it and she knows it. And she is getting up-set. She stood up from the table. ” Listen . . .I’m going to take a quick look around for them.” “They will probably be here any minute.” She shook her head no. ” No, i waited way to long as it is . . .He knows, they know the rules when we split up. I don’t feel right.” She left the table telling them she will not be long and please watch the little one.
Easter had come and gone, bags of chocolate bunnies and toys and new cloths still sat in the bags in the trunk of the van. She did not care, she only wanted her children. Her brother had called the police before they left the mall two days ago. Three children went missing the ages of 18, 11, and 9. pictures and posters were put out and around in stores and restaurants and on bill-boards and posts. But no calls came in about nothing. No calls from kidnappers. No nothing. It was creepy.
”Worse case scenario.” She said to the one detective. He didn’t want to frighten her anymore than what she already was. “Tell me!” She yelled at him and her brother stood up and said. “Answer her . . .I want to know.” The young officer looked away from them and scratched at his head. He diverted his eyes while the older detective talked. “Okay . . .Worse case scenario . . .They are taken and being sold if not already, sold into the black underground market of prostitution.” This was the wrong but right thing, to say to her . . .She flipped out. She screamed in anger. “ Not my babies. No siree . . .Not my children! I did not have my children . . .I did not carry my babies inside myself for nine months for anyone to take! I did not have babies for shit! No . . .No way.” She ran and puked in the sink, then her bowels wanted to empty, they did, ten times. When she returned to the kitchen she said to her brother. ” I need the keys to your van.”
The young officer did his best to stop her from leaving but failed, as did the older detective. Her brother had no say, he just did as he was asked and got in the van giving her directions to the mall. That is what she told them all. ” I need to go to the mall and no one in this room has the right to tell me i can not go.” In all actually she was indeed right. She had every right to go to the mall. And she went with her brothers help.
In the mall, she asked her brother, to take her where they left the children, he did. She stood still and closed her mind of everything around her and went back to that day. She sobbed for one long second, telling herself there was no time for tears. “Stop it . . .Hear me.” Then she called out as loud as she could their names, every thing around her became quiet. She called again. People looked, whispers could be heard. She called one more time with her eyes shut and with her heart opened. Lets go now. And off they went in the same direction the children went that day, his birthday.
She ran through the mall this way that way, stopping, listening, running, turning around running over that way then this way. “Where are you going.” He called to his sister. “I don’t know . . .Where ever my head tells me.” He ran to keep up with her. “What are you doing.” “following.” “What?” “I’m following my body to my children.” He grabbed hold of her stopping her. “How does that even make sence?” ” Perfectly to me . . .Now let me go. You can follow me or you can go home. But let me be.” A tear fell from her. “Please brother, you are wasting my time, i need to go this way.” He became puzzled. “What can it hurt.” He let her go. A minute later she was outside in the back of the mall crossing over the back parking area and into the brush. seconds later they both could see a cabin.
Her heart started to pound. “There brother . . .They are in there.” He ran faster than anything she ever saw and smashed his big body up into, onto the door and it cracked. They heard a scream from a child. She called out to this child . . .All that came back was one word. Mommy. When her brother finally broke down the door, eight, children, huddled in the corner, all tattered and torned, bound in ropes and tape, ready for market. One child lie dying, he was not wanted from a month ago. It was his jet-black hair, jet-black was not on the market for a while now.
When they were free, the one child said. “Mommy . . .How did you find us.” Her eyes began to fill with tears. ” The Lord . . .I didn’t carry you in my belly for nine months for nothing . . . A Mother’s intuition i guess.” They all cried tears of joy and Love. Then they had Easter and Birthday cake. THE END
It’s true . . .The more you move the better for you. That can not be denied.
But then i guess you need a limber body where your joints are moist and healthy and strong. Rather stiff knees and sore elbows and shoulders. Frig, even the bottom of your feet are down . . .Every step you take or make, hurts. But YOU CAN”T stop, right? You know it . . .You have to move on and forward. Or sit and rust up, drying out your muscles and tendons and ligaments and what ever else is drying up in our ageing bones and joints.
Fine . . .How could i even argue with that, i couldn’t. I know somebody who hurts, like all the above, and they still live life and go on, without, the aid of medications. They figure they can eat something or drink something everyday like dark green leaves and lots of garlic and stuff like that. Or other people who take fish pills and or vitamin pills, health things, if you will, people. But nomatter what you eat or not eat or take pills or not, the question is do you move around or just sit. I HOPE YOUR ANSWER IS MOVE AROUND and not sit.
So after all this was explained to me. I thought i would do a load of laundry. I had to go down 15 stares and back up 15 stares. When the wash was finished, i then went again, down the 15 stares, to take the washing out of the washing machine and put it in the drier. AND YES I KNOW IT MUST sound strange to some of you people , [ washing machine . . .What the hell is a dryer] ? I will tell you . . .It is a machine down 15, stares, in the basement, it washes cloths. The dryer is where we put our wet washed cloths, in an another machine that puts out hot air.
Well now i am on my second way up the stares because i had to go down and take them out of the washing machine and put them in the dryer. Now my knees and the bottom of my feet are screaming at me, in a different language, like La Ouch.
As i ascend the very top step and exclaimed la ouch, the person then told me, that what i did was indeed a good thing and it would be very beneficial to me and my body, if, i, should have one more round of up and down the set of steps.
Is it? . . .Really good for me, and i, am not furthering, hurting my bones? No, no they say, you should never stop moving it is good for you. It is just what you need. Your seething up because you are not moving around enough. You sit to much.
Aw . . .I was surprised to feel what i felt, right then and there, was it i hurting myself by sitting? What could i do for myself, to do sorry for . . .
So i make a statement to this person telling them, i have no reason to go down and up the stares now my washing is done, it seems silly to go up and down steps for no reason not to mention the pain.
NO YOU ARE WRONG . . .GOING UP AND DOWN THE STEPS IS JUST WHAT YOU NEED. It is good for your joints and bones and it gives you good exercise. Strengthens your legs and your muscles. Oh well they talked up a nice scenario where i would look nice and have awesome legs and all what ever else is good exercise.
I was on my way back up the 15 steps for the eighth, time, really, la ouching now. I felt like my body was on fire, and was so very happt to be at the top of the starecase. Yippee i am finished. One more step would of killed me sort of burming pain. Then i heard them giggling, in the other room, how they tricked me to do their dirty wash. Really . . .Is it. I said to myself. . .Then i thought i am happy that i still quit smoking December11,2012. They laughed.
So. Is or Is not , a good thing, going up and down the step, i am wondering?
Yeah real funny i thought . . .But i am smarter, so i did not let on, that i did hear them. And i continued to la ouch into where they were and i la ouched much louder and fell on the long cot. The joke was on them now and they thought they tricked me, when i, indeed tricked them. Too. A SUCKER BORN EVERY MINUTE Day
