When Barley1 Turns To Corn & Life Tends To Suck

Written By Marvin Thomas Cox Flynn

Copyright 2016 Marvin Thomas Cox
DBA: Marvin Thomas Cox Flynn
All Rights Reserved

In a world of sorrows where so many will never see tomorrow, we all have our
days when it is all about me, me, me. Our field of vision is all too often limited to our
own personal problems, many of which are going on in that field of battle that lies
right between our eyes, and not in plain sight of open skies in some great panoramic
display that might cause another to give a rat's ass about what we consider to be
insurmountable obstacles or hopeless situations.
We each carry our own personal sack of poor-pitiful-me garbage about in
falsely concluding that no one has it worse than we, not that we can see, and most
certainly not that we would care to feelfor reals. Selfish self-centered-ness is a
most human attribute that we each seek to deny exists in our perfect and orderly lives
that are spent seeking happiness and success out of all the chaos that is nothing
more than life the way it is. We are born, we breath, we defecate, we dream and
aspire and, sooner or later, we die. This is, life 101 for each of us, and its lessons
will not be thwarted, nor will its final outcome.
My situation may seem the worst possible sort, until I am forced to the learn
the plight of another whose situation makes mine look minuscule indeed. But such
revelation can only come to pass when I am willing to cease being that selfish ass just
long enough to view the buff of another' problems from that perspective of feeling
what they feel between those eyes that often hide pain and sorrow, while pasting to
face a smile that has been borrowed from a time when life was far better than now.
1 AbibThe first month of the ecclesiastical year of the Hebrews; afterwards called Nisan. It answered nearly to our April. Abib signifies green ears of
grain, or fresh fruits. It was so named, because grain, particularly barley, was in ear at the time. On the tenth of this month the passover-lamb was set
apart; it was killed on the fourteenth towards sunset, and eaten the same evening after the fifteenth day had begun. The seven days from the fifteenth to
the twenty-first inclusive, were "the feast of unleavened bread," closing with a solemn convocation, Exodus 12:1-13:22.
http://biblehub.com/topical/a/abib.htm
 As we go through our lives, living day to day merry on our way, we are clueless
as to what festered pockets of puss may be building within the hearts and minds of
others as infections inflicted by wounds that will never heal, nor ever be aired to the
world until we, somehow, inadvertently say or do something that brings a sudden and
dramatic release of that pus festered pain and anguish that has been pent up for so
long. In shock, we wonder what in the world could be wrong with that person. Why
have they opted to behave this way?
The answer sometimes lies in that of our assumptions. We analyze too much,
or we fail to analyze enough, before we launch ourselves off into areas that we
ignorantly have no clue are ultra sensitive, hence the rabid reaction to what we have
deemed as no wrong doing on our behalf. In fact, there has been no wrong doing.
Our only error has been that of simply not knowing, not even dreaming that things
that powerfully emotional could be raging on inside of someone who appeared, for
all practical purposes, to have it all together.
Reality 101 is, no one actually has it all together. We spend way too much of
our lives pretending to have it all together, rather than spending our lives enjoying
life as much as we possibly can in relation to what life has been kind enough to give
us that does not leave festering pus pockets within the memories of our hearts and
minds. We all have wounds that life has injured us with. However, for some of us
those wounds never seem to heal properly or at all, but, instead become inflamed and
festered pus-pockets just waiting to be brushed up against in the wrong fashion, at
the wrong place, and at the wrong time.
So, when it happens try to remember that such people are not truly lashing out
at you, but at the lousy hand, dealt from a marked deck's bottom, that life has dealt
them, or those whom they love. If they are able to allow the poison holding them
captive to be released to life's sunshine and fresh air long enough, they may have a
chance at healing that would never have come about, except for your unintentional
words or actions that brought about an explosion that needed to happen, just not
aimed towards you at the time.
In my life, I have lost many things, raised in a dysfunctional home to two sets of
parents and two sets of families. I have lost many good friends, and in recent years I
have lost my Dad, my Step-Dad, my Mom, a very close friend, and a very dear and
sweet lady friend who passed away more than just suspiciously. Things like this
always happen to other people until it happens to you, and, then, it suddenly becomes
very personal and very real.
Possessing a naturally inquisitive and investigative personality, I set out to
learn the details of what really happened to that lady friend I cared for so dearly.
What I learned in the process was more than my heart could bear, more than I
thought I ever wanted or wished to know, leaving me to wish I never knew, nor had
ever known what clearly appears to be a truth that will change nothing, and will
never bring her back from the grave.
So, the pus festered, and the wound became a gaping wound beyond any hope
of healing. My world turned to utter darkness, and my life ceased to have meaning.
One can only stew in one's own juices for so long before something has to give,
or else it totally destroys you. Doing something different may not heal the wound, but
it will drain the pus from the wound, in hopes of some future healing.
Thus, I turned to my writing in seeking to use the good things in my life to stir
me to greater heights of positive, hopeful, and prosperous thinking, and also to use
the dark things in my life to vent my emotions in attempting to find some way to turn
those negatives into positives before the end of each and every story. Now, in real
life, things do not always work out this way. Life is not fair. Life is totally impartial,
and life plays no favorites, nor imparts any super powers no matter how badly we
desire them. Hence, came to be my dark and independent, interconnected story
series where I, at least, was able to vent just a bit of the anger and hurt that life
introduced me to, whether I asked for it or not. Most certainly those I lost did not ask
for such a fate.
We are so spoiled in thinking that life must conform itself to our desires, our
wishes, and our dreams. But it does not, and it did notfor me and for untold others
who have lived and died upon this tiny planet.
It is so easy to get caught up in oneself, and to forget the pain and suffering of
others, especially when they direct it at you out of self defense of what is happening
to them between their ears.
Not many years ago, I was dumpster diving. I still have no true home of my
own. I am unemployed, and penniless. Yet, life has blessed me with a treasure trove
of friends that few men are blessed with in the entirety of their lives.
I have lost some very important things in my life, important people.
But, I have been blessed to have met a man who took me in, gave me a place to
stay, became my true friend, and listened to almost every problem I have ever had,
except those things I could not reveal to him out of respect.
My inner pain may not heal tomorrow, or even day after tomorrow, and to
those whom I have offended in unleashing the rancid pus pockets created as a result
of the painful wounds of my life, I sincerely apologize from the depths of my heart. If
you will bear with me, I truly believe I will get better, and I will overcome,
eventually. Healing takes time, especially for us old men who are set in our ways.
 Now, the man who took me in from dumpster diving is not doing so well,
himself. In the past four years he has lost Father, Mother, Niece, and Brother.
Presently, cancer has come calling, and the prognosis of survival is much more than
gloomy. He has lashed out at me like he has never done before, taking the fury of his
anger of all that he has lost, and what is happening to him, now, out on me.
I can take it, though I do not love it, nor understand all that he feels. I am here
for him no matter what, and no matter how he rants and raves at me about all that he
feels, I will not walk away from the most righteous (not religious) man I have ever
known, and the best friend I have ever had. He does not have enough time for me to
play the selfish fool playing in the pity-party of my own drool. He needs me to be
strong for him, now.
I hope that one day, when my time comes, someone else will find a way to be
strong for me, and remember that I am only human, nothing more and nothing less.
There are people out there in this world who need us all to be strong for them,
because they are unable to be strong for themselves The question is, will we be
strong for them, or condemn them within the pity party of our own drool? The
question, then, will be: Who is truly the fool?

(Written March 11th, 2016)