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A slice of life / a day in the life Out in the elements – almost every day, training, weather, sunshine, cloudy – B. C. fate – raining. Seventy five reps, twenty times over my head, on my back, thirty bench presses I’m fed then onto twenty curls and I’m dead. Then it has come time for abstaining from all my physical straining weather, sunshine or raining. All the above, after starting off with fifteen minutes of tummy tucking, bumps and grinds, a songs worth of body tilts, from side to side round and round, from front to back and back again then another songs worth of twisting – not the dance – legs firmly planted, arms ( helicopter blades ) rotating then comes leg squats for as long as they may hold out - hold on – be they weak or be they strong. Solitaire fills the moments in-between, cools, relaxes the air that this old man disturbed, for an old man, it’s pretty fair. Not done yet, sixty, seventy, eighty, a hundred push ups Dependent upon the will, the strength, the stamina, followed by punching at shadows in front, left, right, air turbulence being created all around, moving to a songs worth of, beautiful sound leading to another songs worth of, on the spot running then a songs worth of bending over and touching – legs straight, hands flat – the floor, my toes showing the angles where the wild goose goes. Finality, another songs worth or running on the spot even though the spot keeps moving. Games I play – three, all different – of solitaire guide my eyes true, capture my stare as we compete against each other. I beat one, two, three then another when not beaten and being put under. Games I play in-between my sets to cool, relax the air after my reps. These are some of a sixty year old man’s activities. These are some of a sixty year old man’s proclivities. I am just exhausted from reliving all these vitalities Then come words that flow, from books, I want to know their essence, their wisdom, their knowledge to show me, that what I have always believed, is, truth is so. So, books of art, biographies, philosophies, psychology. Books of ancient history, afterlife, N.D.Es., U F O logy, Books on the metaphysical, parapsychology, telepathy, clairvoyance are but a few that have interested me, bringing me through to an understanding, a confirmation of all that I do not know I know, yet know is my relation to this universe, this plane, this planet and all creation . The end of my day comes on a screen of flashing colours. Fleeting images burned onto the retinas of my eyes. The sounds they project, pressed onto my ear drums as I leave behind all that went before, as stated above. I put my body and mind into neutral and let the cathode rays, these waves – from the boob tube – wash over me, realizing that far too many are glued to being neutral, neutrality filling most of their empty hours, their empty lives, and this is the very essence of their very life. A day in the life – to bed, to sleep, into dreams are the activities of this sixty year old man, it seems are the proclivities of this sixty year old man, without means. B. J. “A” 2 March 19th 2003
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