If It Wasn’t For Me Your Last Breath Would Have Whispered—Wasted Life

Judgement Day–MV Conversation Continues

“Do you remember the last time a decision of conscience turned your
world topsy-turvy?” said MV. “It should be a deja’vu experience for you. It took
place in that same chair you are sitting in right now, and you were
listening to the same music. Everything was going-to-black back then,

“Yes, I remember,” I said, “I was depressed because nobody could
understand me. I had an important message that I just couldn’t

“Perhaps they weren’t listening,” responded MV.

“Maybe,” I said, “but I’m pretty sure it was me. I just couldn’t say
what needed to be said. It was awful. I couldn’t cope, so I just gave
up, and my depression grew worse.”

“I wasn’t part of that,” responded MV.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I said. “I wasn’t blaming you.”

“Good! I get blamed for everything. Let me tell you who is to blame,
though. It’s the big guy upstairs,” said MV, “if you want to blame
somebody blame Him. It’s idealism you know. If idealism ceased to
exist, suffering would be cut in half. Without idealism, I wouldn’t be
out of a job, but I sure would be on a hell of a diet.”

“I’m an idealist?” I responded.

“Is the kettle black!” MV replied. “Of course you are. You poor soul!
You were born that way. Maybe we ought to go now.”

“Hold on,” I said, “all I wanted to do was share what I believed with
others. Is that asking too much? Everybody wants to do that, don’t they?”

“Haven’t you heard; some beliefs have to be earned,” said MV. “It’s
not enough just to share them. Tell me that’s not breaking news for you!”

“Well, even if I didn’t know that back then, I do now.”

“You had to learn that the hard way, didn’t you?” responded MV.

“I guess so,” I replied. “Back then, no matter what I said, it was
like trying to feed lemons to people who only liked ice cream.
What was I supposed to do?
I wasn’t saying anything threatening, so why were my ideas rejected
outright, without so much as a second thought?”

“Hey, I’m just the witness, remember?” said MV. “If you want answers
you need to talk to someone else.”

“Now who’s playing coy?” I replied. “I was down for the count when I
asked for help, and you know exactly what I’m talking about because
you were there. You’re always there, right? You could have spoken up,
but you didn’t–why?”

“Why should I,” said MV, “You still got the message didn’t you?”
“I got it,” I replied, “but no thanks to you.”

“Don’t be so sure of that,” MV responded, “why do you think your
words fell on deaf ears in the first place?”

“Enough of your double talk,” I said. “I know better than to listen
to you. But I am thankful that I got the message– the message of
family. Family puts God right smack in the middle of things.”

“Yeah, you got it,” replied MV. “I suppose you deserve an `at-a-boy!”


About bwinwnbwi

About me: Marvin Gaye’s song, "What’s Going On" was playing on the jukebox when I went up to the counter and bought another cup of coffee. When I got back, the painting on the wall next to where I was sitting jumped out at me, the same way it had done many times before. On it was written a diatribe on creativity. It was the quote at the bottom, though, that brought me back to this seat time after time. The quote had to do with infinity; it went something like this: Think of yourself as being in that place where infinity comes together in a point; where the infinite past and the infinite future meet, where you are at right now. The quote was attributed to Hermann Hesse, but I didn’t remember reading it in any of the books that I had read by him, so I went out and bought Hesse’s last novel, Magister Ludi. I haven’t found the quote yet, but I haven't tired of looking for it either.
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