The Way To Happiness
Happiness is different for everyone. Some like it hot, some like it cold but all like it one way or another just as long as it gets delivered right to our door, preferably without having to sign for it because if we’re not at home it ain’t gonna get there. And even if we’re at home god forbid that we would miss the door bell. Oh well, just another day in paradise.
For some, happiness is filling out the ‘correct’ paperwork so that our Masters will leave us alone. For others it’s work, work, working at the slave factory until we retire and thereupon give up the ghost solely because our Master has let us ‘go’. For others still there is the privilege of giving birth to another slave for the system ensuring that we were never wrong to begin with by dancing with the devil.
Happiness also comes in so many varieties and colors. It’s really spectacular that it is only bound by “infinity and beyond”. I believe and so it is. Living in today’s ‘modern’ society is like a fantasy come true. Everything is geared to me, me, me. All my needs are taken care of and though my ‘soul to keep’ is kept in a jar by the Master’s bedside I am assured that all is well. I couldn’t be happier!
And despite my bitching and moaning about taxes, rights, privileges, security checks, authorizations, identification checks, numbering, labeling and categorizing, I must say, it is an enormous comfort to know that I am so well loved and appreciated. I suppose I would do the same to my property but since I am denied the ‘right’ to own, it ain’t gonna happen.
When the door to happiness is controlled by another it follows that they would control the idea of happiness as well. But don’t worry, it has been said that darkness always prevails, didn’t you read the fine print? It’s there and the assumption is that all is well as long as the Master’s wishes, changing though they may be, are not only followed but taken to heart.
A slave is not born, it is a mantle of identification one wears willingly. It’s not the Master’s choice by any stretch of the imagination, it’s wholly and completely your own.
But if it makes you ‘happy’ please continue being a slave to someone else’s idea of what you are and what it is that you should be doing. And when your ‘legal’ name is called make sure to say “Here!” with full conviction and motivation. ‘They’ will love you for it.
A ‘happy’ slave is a ‘happy’ master.
But I do wish that people on this planet would, for the love of God, stop playing the game called Plantation. It’s quite demeaning for a spiritual being because, remember that jar by the Master’s bedside? That’s what you have to give up - you. All the unbounded freedom with which you have been given, contained and restrained in someone else’s idea of hell. As a player knows the rules and regulations of a game so too must a ‘citizen’ of any country on this Earth. Does that connection make any sense whatsoever?
Perhaps now is a good time to see what’s on television. Better yet, to cruise the Internet for some porn. Yeah, that’ll do the trick.
Every day is like Halloween where the kids come to the door and say “trick or treat” only there is no treat except those dog biscuits and those are for the dogs.
Don’t be the monkey with a collar looking for an organ grinder. It’s not suitable for a spiritual being and sooner or later the jig will be up. The question then becomes, what is it going to take for that to happen?
That is why I’m here.