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Earnest Pettie, Online

Editor of Pophangover.com, Damn You, Autocorrect!, and the whole Pophangover Network

Thoughts on a Walk In The Park

The park grants me a small measure of solace and, after dark, a slightly larger measure of heebie-jeebies. I walk in the park to make sense of it all. How did I reach this point, and are those guys going to mug me? Both are big questions, but I need the answer to the second one sooner. I've been tackling the Problem of Evil. If there is an all-loving God, how can he allow evil to exist without allowing me to harness it to use against my enemies? My enemies are few-- the three major credit reporting bureaus. I don't believe their reporting is fair and balanced. Coming to terms with my role in the universe. Pigeons don't fear me, but they do respect me. A significant improvement. It's hard to believe that we're alone in the universe. Especially since I keep getting calls at 3:00 AM. This can't be a coincidence. If I were calling cross-galaxy, I would wait until the rates were cheaper, too. I can't help but wonder whether this is really an attempt to reach out to us or simply a drunk dial. If it is both, then extraterrestrials are having a much better time than I am. Walking gives me time to be alone with my thoughts. It's been a mixed blessing. I've learned much more about my thoughts, but it is increasingly clear they don't appreciate my company. When I am alone with my thoughts, there tend to be uncomfortable silences. Lately, there have been times when I've finally felt like I am in control of my own destiny. Then I end up at Seven-Eleven. I walk in and out without purchasing anything. The clerks don't respect me, but they do greet me. A significant improvement. I look around the park and can't help but believe every tree, plant, and animal is a gift from God. Why do so many of God's gifts make me sneeze? Should I be offended? Also, I can't help but notice that his gifts are free, but the Church insists on a monetary offering. I am getting offended. The universe is vast. That makes me hate my apartment just a bit more. It's so small, and there's next to no closet space. How could this happen with there being so much space out there? What's the excuse? Each of the stars represents another galaxy, full of promise and potential. And apartments? In the park, I learn about myself. I am confident that I chart my own course in life. Charts. Courses. Flashbacks to remedial algebra, where I was ridiculed and beaten up for owning notebook paper. Nevertheless, when I return home my confidence holds firm. My cat doesn't greet me, but he does demand food. A significant improvement.

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