I will descend from my perch of complete happiness and fulfillment today -- up where the blue skies are -- for a few minutes of housekeeping duties in regards to any lingering malingerers who still have their nose tied up in knots about the personal choice I made concerning the direction of this blog and my life.
I'm so often up in my citadel of happiness these days, absorbing and reflecting the rays of contentment and peace, that I sometimes forget that down here still dwells a whole people perceiving and expressing various needs, who also have become stuck in a certain level of immaturity and have failed to advance beyond to the point that they could take some responsibility for their own happiness and sense of personal well being. I'm up there on a completely different plane, but unfortunately you're still down here, barely risen from the primeval muck, and as far as abilities to rise above, you're not just physically a bottom feeder but also one mentally.
How does this make me feel? Like I said, sometimes I forget. Because my hiatus is paying handsome dividends, which I collect and enjoy ... up there somewhere.
If you can stand back and picture a plain, the earth, and lots of people clawing at each other in the mud out of envy and lust, you'll get a sense of what I see. Now take a look at the wider landscape. There's a mountain rising from the earth. Now pull back and see it in context. Midway up the mountain there's an encircling cloud, very thick, but it doesn't go on forever. For at the top of the cloud it becomes wispy and the mountain from that point stands out in stark majesty. Now zero in on it, focus just slightly down, and you'll see a little citadel there next to a big pole with red blinking lights to warn airplanes. See that? That's where I dwell, far above everyone else. The happy airplanes occasionally drop supplies to me, whatever I order.
And occasionally I get word that all is not well down in Mudland, Clawsville, Lustburg, Envydale, and Sadvale and every slough of depond in between. We want you down here, they seem to say, so we can grasp and claw and pull and make demands. In short, they want me to be as miserable as they are. Which I was, once upon a time. But I have ascended, dear friends. I have gone aloft. I have found the secret for which long I had sought. And I don't see myself giving that up just to go another 10 rounds with the likes of you. To my faithless readership, my former "friends" and "followers," just let me say this as kindly as I possibly can, Get a life.
Your contorted facial features, I don't recognize those anymore (outside a funhouse mirror). Your big pleading sad cow eyes, those aren't signs I respond to now. Your outstretched hands, put together with your big pleading sad cow eyes and your contorted facial features -- including your overactive ooga-looling tongue movements -- it's simply another language to me, the language of desperation that only seeks to take, never to give. It's pathetic and I meet it all with the harshest of disdains. No sympathy. Away! Vamoose!
This hiatus -- you may be sad to hear -- will continue! Now, if I may pry your muddy hands from my doorknob -- thank you -- I need to catch the next plane up.