The Mills of the God Grind Slowly BUT Exceedingly Fine

Very recently, I realized that life after death is fair. The present works determine where to go. There are two places to go; heaven and hell. Life is unfair now. Those who work hard get less. Those who devote themselves suffer the most. Those who live straight have crook lives. And cheaters, liars, killers, and other adulterers are rewarded with good lives. I wish those who commit bad deeds must be punished in front. It’s good there is a decider of our deeds now, not later. Those who cheat, bully, lie, kill, and commit other crimes are said to be going to hell and those who are good human beings should go to heaven. It’s slow but sure to come. The mills of the god grind slowly but exceedingly fine. There is cause and effect in everything we do here. And this hope keeps me that far away from bad deeds and keeps away from those people. It’s difficult to tune with life. But life is life; you go on with good things, good thoughts, good deeds, good soul, good; everything good. But, at last, we turned into a bad and fellable one. Nothing goes as per the deeds now. Those who went on cheating, they go on and those who tell lies, they go on…. Such is the life of man—no extremity; no very good, no very bad, but one must follow the middle path; the ‘badly good.’

The below is the song I like to sing when people grumble and do nothing.

Some people must-have.
Some people have not.
But they’ll complain and complain and complain and complain and complain.

Some people will work.
Some simply will not.
But they’ll complain and complain and complain and complain and complain.

Like this: It’s society’s fault I don’t have a job.
It’s society’s fault I am a slob.
I have potential no one can see.
Give me welfare. Let me be me!

Hey, Bud, you’re livin’ in the Land of the Free.
No one’s gonna hand you an opportunity!

Some people must-have.
Some never will.
But they’ll complain and complain and complain and complain and complain.

I don’t have a house. I don’t have a car.
I spend all my money getting drunk in a bar.
I wanna be rich. I don’t have a brain.
Just give me a handout while I complain.

Or this: I wanna stay in bed and watch TV.
Go out weekends in a limousine
And dance all night takin’ lots of drugs
And wake up when I wanna.

Hey, Bud, you’re livin’ in the Land of the Free.
No one’s gonna hand you an opportunity!

Some people will learn.
Some never do.
But they’ll complain and complain and complain and complain and complain.
Yeah, they’ll complain and complain and complain and complain and complain.

                                                                                                                                    -to be continued-