Greetings from me, the Black Ochid. I have just had my bath and the cold waters of the shower left pink pricks on my ivory tits. I shall take my daily ten mile run up the moutain and then I shall unburden my soul to you. I love the way the air scorches through my lungs and I like the slight burning pain in my legs as I run full speed along my path. I glitter with life. Ah, to be a healthy animal is divine.
As you know, I am immortal and have seen a million sunsets. Red sun hurtling across the sky to fall into the purple orchid of the night. How miraculous this is. God’s bounty on earth. Then fruit for breakfast, lush green grapes, apples, watermelon, strawberries, and one slice of good, brown earthen bread.
Life is fine as long as you don’t weaken. People break under the weight of their own dreams and expectations. It is not true that you may have whatever you want in life. The key is you must try to have whatever you want and never stop trying. The glory is in the path not the destination. Our God, most powerful casts one’s fate or if you should be a gypsy, you think that person is Saint Sara.
Strength may be learned but not conferred and in spite of this, we must try to create ourselves: we are our own canvass. If the canvass is blank through laziness, lassitude, timidity or fear it is our own fault. Be vivid, Ye Mortals, and never let anyone dilute you or feed on you.
Those who come to remake you are, in themselves, flawed. They seek other minds they can conquer, for they know not themselves. There comes to each person one who would feed on your soul. These people, the envious and the evil, must be overcome with maximum thrust. They are spiritual vampires. Each person must have his own light within and not try to extinquish the light within another through envy or malice.
It’s a jealous world, when one is gifted. To be gifted is to be as a child, open, trusting, and generous with life. Most mortals are not accutely aware how fragile and how short are their lives. How precious.They devote themselves to manipualting others while Our God in heaven has set the metronome to stop ticking in a sudden, disdainful moment.
Manipulate not, speak the truth, and withold it if it might damamge some other weakened souls. Never feed on the weak and the lost. Ye are a vulture on a shit wagon if Ye do so. Seek out your equals, those who love life. Seek out the strong and help the weak if you can.
Only hurt those who have harmed you. Don’t slaughter the lambs just because you like the sight of blood. Life is difficult for the gifted: they inspire envy. Yet always Do Unto Others as our Lord dictates.
My life is like a beautiful jar of honey and I shall shower it down on those whom I love for I am The Black Orchid and I treasure this life. A man’s love must exceed his grasp. Ah, Glorious, Glorious Life. Bring it, Lord, for I shall abide, and survive though your lessons may be harsh. Chaio, Darlings!
Written by Carol Ann, author of Poems of Thunder (Noire & Whimsy) @ Amazon & Barnes & Noble.com