• slimming deadly sins •

• slimming deadly sins •
Oh, damn. I keep outliving people I have envied, which may yet prove to be the most useless of deadly sins.
So long, envy, you are, like the old ‘five o’clock shadow’, no longer an issue, now that the silvers have grown in – just a paradigm of youth, a long-ago memory, and the most laughable of ‘sins’.
Frankly, I’d be embarrassed to be you, so dependent on the frailty of others. Honestly, get a life, dude.
Pride has been always a close second, but to what end? What a stupid gift, blind ambition, self-assurance, hubris: nowadays, I laugh frequently, heartily, at the memory of my former self: oh, man, from time to time – with lust an acceptable, if irritating, omnipresence, what a twit I have been. It’s true.
And yet –
Sloth is the big bugaboo.
And maybe, my next best ambition, given, I’ve nothing better to do. Not that it’s so awful, but because it’s unattainable.
(If only I had a designated nap-time, like we had in the first grade, and in kindergarten.
I have a hammock, all planned out, in my mind, for just such exploration as this.)
But, I can’t sit still. Too much to learn. So much to do!
Curiosity is the driving force of my young life. Did I say, young? Even now, I feel as young as I ever did.
Do I look thinner, or is that my rationale? Please, don’t be jealous – I can’t help it if I’m beautiful.
But I digress.

Shaving the odds, paring to the essentials. These days, that’s all my happiness. There are, anymore, no more “deadlies” to fear, anywhere. Such is bliss.
Isn’t that a hoot? Just memory, laughable scenarios, good stories, and welcomed, human weakness. That’s me, through and through.
Never fear. I’m your huggie-bear. Relax. The game’s on. There’s chicken on the barbie. Pull up a chair.
~ Tim Burchfield



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