Twelve hours ago my companion and I were walking at our favorite snowy park. The landscape was beautiful. At one point, I glanced over and noticed that my companion had vanished… Stopping in my tracks, I turned back… Finally I saw her—she was a few paces off, snapping a picture of the trees. So I said: “Put down your camera, and follow me: I will make you a photographer of God.”
I said this remark because I thought that it was clever. The fact that I am recording it here in my diary proves that what I say is true.
Jesus, walking by the sea of Galilee, saw two brethren—Peter, and Andrew his brother—casting a net into the sea: for they were fishers.
And he saith unto them, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.”
And they straightway left their nets and followed him.
That quote was from the gospel according to Matthew [4:18-20]. I prefer the gospel according to me. My name is Bryan Ray; I changed Jesus back into a woman and fixed all the other saints’ inaccuracies in my scripture Rumors of Sarah. Here is the same passage, from the improved account:
Now as Sarah was walking by the woods that evening, she saw Member One and Member Two shooting arrows into the squirrels’ nests, for they were mighty hunters.
“Hey,” said Sarah, “put down your weapons and join my team. I will show you how to impersonate a viable food source.”
They dropped their weapons and quit their jobs. They followed her instantaneously.
NOTE. Although they were composed afterwards, I relocated the above anecdote and divine citations to the beginning of this entry, because I thought they worked better that way (for the last shall be first). Now here is the rest of the stuff that I wrote this morning:
Can it be that the Christmas holy day is over? This year, the Christmas holy day ended up lasting for more than eight separate days; and (who knows!) there might be more to come…
What happens is that your family consists of four or five beings, and each of those beings prefers to schedule his or her own separate Christmas. And every individual Christmas planner has at least one spouse who schedules an additional, duplicate, supplementary Christmas. So even if you are a former drug abuser or dipsomaniac who has managed to stay sober for years, the holy days of Christmas will increase and multiply until your addiction is resurrected. But you are strong: you will persevere.
One of the nurses at the home where my earthly father “lives” explained that she hails from a faraway land whose people do not think that it is strange to bring forth dozens of children into the world. The local villagers share life so closely that they all watch over each other’s children together, like one big family; as opposed to the way that we do it here in the U.S.—families here, she said, limit themselves to just having one or zero children, because this country requires its citizens to reside in lonely, disconnected apartments, which offer no safe, common zone for young kids to run free; and people here do not communally share child-rearing duties; moreover every service or good has its price, so countless bills arrive in the mail to charge you for all the various aspects of living.
The highlight of my day yesterday was when I prepared (which is to say, makeshifted) a salad for lunch. First I took a carrot out of the refrigerator and chopped it into pieces with a knife. Then I poured a third of a can of green peas into the bowl. Then I chopped up a portion of a green pepper. Then I added baby tomatoes: six of them. Then I arranged a great number of spinach leaves around and about the other items; and I drizzled Italian dressing over the leaves, and sprinkled parmesan cheese on top. For the finale, I added exactly seven croutons; which turned out to be about ten croutons, because a few extra tumbled out when I shook the bag.
The reason I used the above elements to make my salad is that they comprise the total of my refrigerator’s contents. If I could have located additional items anywhere, I would have added them gladly. I enjoy chopping vegetables and mixing ingredients together.