Kinfolk, Kindred and Relations,
Am refreshed after a nice cool shower and a cup of tea. No snacks - cutting back you see.
The three hounds are circling the Florida room anticipating meal at 1800. I can hear the tip-tip-tip of their paw's and nails on the Turkish tiled floor. I don't know why, but this gives me the creeps. It's like their buzzards preparing to attack the near dead. Have seen the entire opera out in the Everglades. It's true. They will attack the poor one's near death instead of waiting for it to die or be killed and taken by another. They're fuckin' ruthless. You know what? I can and have been to that point of ruthlessness. Never as in the death or ill health of another, but to the point of talking the talk. There's a time when a Man or Woman must do what ever she or he must do. Please note that one of the hounds has entered the room and has settled here near by...
...any way's...
...it's sometimes too easy to remember the techniques of being ruthless. Like a well trained Kung Fu artist. Or, one who is fantastic at Fencing. I suspect it is par for the course because we are taught these techniques when we are victimized by another and or other's. As in more than One.
I had to be ruthless and cunning...
...or die. For me as a boy, adolescent, young adult or as I am presently, I live as if today is my last day on Earth Mother, so it is the right thing for me to keep these techniques in my skull, heart and Spirit's. They're but a snap away. Like a Genie waiting for His/Her Human. Or, like the inhale and exhale of a good breath. The Genie waits.
When One's baby sister calls and speaks to her big brother about something very serious - I tend to take it very seriously. She calls in the middle of the day to take thirty five minutes out of her busy schedule at work to "share" a few things with me...
...so I listen. And I listened more than usual because this is something that hits close to "Home".
I am the eldest of what was once seven - she is the youngest of same. Thus, my Baby Sister. By the way, I am and do call all of my sisters baby sisters because I can. I am older than they, you see.
Whenever, my baby sister calls and fights back the tears. I know what time it is. Whenever she calls and speaks of Her hardships in health that have been made worse by the lack of initiative of another, I then, am compelled to intervene and let this individual know just what time the clock has struck between He and She.
For all of the correct and righteous reasons and decisions to be made, I will have a conversation.
This is not meant to come across in any other way than being a concerned brother. My Baby Sister, is ill. What appears to be a progressive form of Ill Health - because I have seen a change and difference with her. In her.
I have eye's and can see. I may have but one ear, but I listen to life through it, and I hear.
She works full time with a rather intense occupation at the largest hospital in the area. He-Who-Touched-My-Brain, works there too. She'll always take a little over time when possible.
She has two of my most favorite Folks on the face of Earth Mother. My nephew's, my "bud's".
She comes home to too many issues that are too simple to occupy so much of her time, thoughts and health. In my heart and Spirit's, it is the health piece that matters most.
ALL SHE'S ASKING FOR IS SOME FUCKING HELP. Oh yes, I did. Really.
My name's not Sonny, it's Mario, Mr. Sierra, if you're nasty. Besides IMMA lover not a fighter.
Get it?
No more to say now, except this, which is, "All You Need Is Love" and she'll get by "With A Little 'Help' From Her Friend". She just wants things "Getting Better".
Bust a move. She's "Under Pressure"!
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