YOUR - BOTTOM- LINE

YOUR-BOTTOM-LINE

Was thinking about how we must adapt and adjust to have a more sustainable world.  And how compromise and movement relocates our train of thought, even our habits and patterns.  Was thinking about the French Rivera and how much bang for my buck I could get in Côte d'Azur.  From Anglais to French and back in 60 seconds and I suddenly realize I need to tighten my approach and be right on target, instead of targeting millions with an automated program, seeking numbers and information, in hope of having at least one opportunity to stop Ivan The Terrible.  The names change, but and now I need some help.  Nothing is original for long. 


 

Trippin’ and I need a trip adviser.  Where am I going with all of this.  White powder up my slopes.  Smoke from the bong.  Not sure I need to go to France, to get my fill of alternative-b.  Need a 3rd opinion.  Ask Joe Friday.  As Joe Friday on Dragnet said- "The names change, but the faces remain the same".  Let’s face it, I need some help, but I am in the trust nobody mode this week.  Wanted to call this blog:



Your Bottom.   Your Line.     Your Bottom-line.

They think I might have ADD or the other term:

 ADHD.  I never stop moving, 


 

Neither my hands and feet and all my thoughts, constantly in motion.  Hyperactivity Disorder, and its not because I am paranoid and trying to outdistance the automated program and dragnet that is tracking me.  Hunter and Prey and was not even going to talk about that, except that this week its the top story everywhere.  But not really.  Its old news that the surveillance society is in full gear.  What is it?  Let me tell you a story, and that is what they do.  Make up a headline.  Create a Cover.  Draw attention.  Turn Heads.

 

And then forget about it.  If you become obsessed and think its all about you and your phone number and what you say to others on the phone or internet, well it is you and not them that has a problem.  Mulling this over, I did ask.  How Can one like me get help.  And that’s when I started thinking about The French Rivera.  Cashing in my hopes and dream and my frequent flyer points, and walking the beach or a straight line into oblivion, where I can put all my concerns and fears to rest.  But even that, pushed me off course.  And all I could think about was Crossing The Red Line.  And wondered,

"Would I be forgiven?"

Suddenly I could see myself on the beach, in bikini or some revealing summer wear.  And decided its not anybody else but me, in this position and place.  Spy on me.  Look me over.  Listen to conversations.  "Woe is me.  I am getting fat.  Had the good life and sitting at a computer, longer than I should."  And what is the results of all that.  Your Bottom.  And quickly I realized this was more real to me than the government storing my meta-data, just in case.  And that’s where I find myself in the present moment.  A little worried that I have been deceived, and misdirected.  That my life has gotten out of balance.  That I need a little help.  And she walks up to me, saying:  "How may I help you?  Its obvious you speak no French."  And that’s when I realized.  I was on a nude beach.  

And they were watching me.


 

At first it was a shock to me.  Meta-Data check.  I thought it might be the end-of-the-world for me.  Rounded up, put in a boxcar, and never heard of again.  But then I realized, that’s not really the situation that concerns me most.  Its my appearance.  I want people to think I am smart.  Look Smart.  I want people to think I am handsome or cute or pretty.  Pick one.  I want to be in summer and on a beach somewhere.  Having fun.  Not at my desk, worrying if the boss is watching me and evaluating me for some-kind-of-disorder.  So that’s where I am.  On The Red Line.  Should I cross it.  Will I develop some kind of nerve disorder if I do.  And that brings me to the part in the blog, where I need to discuss:  Your Line.  Does it matter what color it is.  I cross the line.  Suddenly I am on the Nude Beach part of the coastline.


 

And now I know from first hand experience.  This is not where I want to be.  Your Bottom.  Your Line.  My Bottomline.  I don’t want to be in your shoes, when that’s all we are decked out with.  On the beach.  Crossed the line.  Turning Red.  Very Hyper.  Under The Sun and Microscope.  Not my day for surveillance programs.  Feeling The Heat.  And over-exposure.  Imagine that.