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                                                  A DOOR OPENS CHAPTER TWO

 

                                                   Written By: Ralph Hawk

 

 

            You know, I face a lot of responsibilities in this city of tests. And I call it a city of tests

 

because I believe many of us living here are being critically evaluated by both mortals from other

 

earthly realities, as well as by deities who now exist in realms we’ll someday access after our

 

temporal deaths. And bizarre, and seemingly unbelievable activity is known to occur in this city.

 

Actually, I think we’ve now reached a point here at which such activity is expected to occur. But I

 

need to “protect” my people in this city of otherworldly and other-reality interventions! I invited them

 

to relocate here; now I must be certain I do all I can to assure their safety and success here.

 

            And while I have so much to do, watch, and supervise, I still often find myself “looking

 

back,” and attempting to “liberate” seemingly confined memories. And when I’m able to access

 

certain of those, I many times find then that they’ve now assumed the form of oral or written epitaphs

 

to all that apparently once was real and actually occurred; or at least was once upon a time granted

 

thought within the mind of any man or woman.

 

            But before I read those epitaphs, I often sense a need to answer at least the following

 

questions, if not more:  “Who decided how I should live?” “Have I sinned often?” “Have I asked for

 

and received forgiveness for all the sins I’ve committed?” “How should I henceforth ‘carry on’ with

 

my life now that I’ve asked for and hopefully been granted remission of all past wrongs?” And, “If

 

and when I ever do succeed and reach a point in my life at which I feel my conscience has been

 

‘purged,’ how will I then be able to properly contend with what those memories, introduced to me via

 

those epitaphs, actually contain?”  

           

            “Caution,” most of the signposts say, “although you’ve been able to open a door to the past,

 

you’d better never step beyond its entrance unless you wish to journey into areas unreal which could

 

easily become real.” And, you know, sometimes after reading those words of caution I can’t help but

 

wonder if someday, long from now, those who succumb to the belief that the correct way to live is as

 

others always have, will learn that sometimes those others probably lived under false assumptions; or

 

will most humans die still believing conformity to be the ultimate goal of humanity? And I also

 

wonder how many mortals can say they’re unequivocally free, because it seems to me as though,

 

despite the fact that all humans possess flesh and blood, many conduct themselves as unimaginative

 

mechanical computers and robots.

 

            And someday will those mechanized hearts and minds be audited by eternal judges? They say

 

those judges demand “completeness of depiction.” Thus, maybe it’s propitious for still living mortals

 

to set aside their “constitutions of iron.” But what is meant by such a phrase as “constitution of iron?”

 

It refers, I guess, to a certain “phoniness” in which many mortals immerse themselves. And that

 

phoniness washes up upon such mortals whenever they misuse (or abuse) at least three (and often

 

more) aspects (or traits) of human behavior which, when utilized as they should be, are simply

 

“normal” human reactions, and reactions to reactions. And those traits are:  jesting, sarcasm, and

 

fear of whatever may strike one as being frightful.

 

            Yet, I think it’s true that all components of human behavior must be “dealt with” either

 

through “execution” or “reception” of. In other words, we either initiate activity, or contend with the

 

effects of activity that’s been initiated by others. And, of course the analogy of life as being a game is

 

always pertinent. And many humans pursue active, or sometimes even aggressive tactics on the

 

playing field of life, but some others prefer subdued roles. And, perhaps in some cases it’s better

 

to have sat on the bench throughout the game than to have committed personal fouls which may have

 

cost one, and perhaps others the ultimate victory. But remember, those sitting there, on the bench, are

 

those same who, with the analogy just used removed, are walking along through life never

 

questioning anything that may be amiss with their course of action. They say they don’t need anyone

 

to tell them any new “codes” or “modes” of conduct, yet they carry with them the same methods of

 

sameness granted them by the past.

 

 And of course all mortals’ thoughts of acceptability have been formulated in the past

 

through the input of many forces; and yes, one of those was Lucifer himself! And rest assured, his is

 

one of the larger contributions to what we today know of as verifiable (though seldom correct) modes

 

of conduct. But Lucifer has no desire to have any mortal accomplish anything during an earthly

 

existence. He advocates the subjugation of free thought, and of all freedom really. And, his primary

 

goal is to have human life lived sinfully, but secondarily he wishes blandness to be rampant amongst

 

all nationalities of planet Earth.

 

            And except for the present, any particular spot in time is any certain location which can only

 

be reached or accessed through a dedicated liberation of the mind. And whims of thought of course

 

are the ultimate liberators. And even the most dreadful tyrants, such as those who led combatants

 

during this reality’s second great war couldn’t know the thoughts of others, though through their

 

envelopment by fear and paranoia, they often envisioned (and often incorrectly) their closest

 

associates to be plotting against them.

 

            And personally, I’ve often known the particular type of fear mentioned in the last sentence.

 

And trust me, it can descend upon one at any time! But it seems to be at its worst when one awakes

 

perhaps too early, notices the initial light of day outside one’s window, and wonders then if all, or at

 

least some of what one believes may take place on that certain day will in fact occur.

 

            And when I think about any such situation which approximates the inherent dreadfulness of

 

the previous sentence, it seems then as if I’m looking downward into a large chasm, canyon, or crater.

 

And should I fall into it, no doubt I’d descend then nearly to the abyss. But God forbid I ever become

 

a part of any evil! And may I never forget to thank heaven’s masters for whenever they assisted my,

 

and previous generations as we and they attempted to avoid any sins, and their repercussions.

 

            And now my mind has strayed to hypothetical outcomes too dastardly to confront! Look

 

beyond that door again, and see there now a world dominated by fascism! Apparently the wrong side

 

won the second great war! And now look back farther. See two groupings of American states there.

 

They’re independent of each other. One is United, and the other is Confederate, and they’re existing

 

separate of one another now. North America has two American nations upon its landmass now! Yes,

 

and look there! There’s a victorious Napoleon wreaking havoc upon a dominated Europe. And do you

 

have the ability to see backward farther still? Can you see back beyond Bonaparte’s tyranny to

 

where all sorts of demagogues are perpetrating all types of savagery upon the inhabitants of planet

 

Earth?

 

            But on the wall, inside the door where I’m standing, there’s a switch with two “settings.” And

 

I notice that currently that switch is set on “historical,” but there’s a “personal” option also. I move

 

the lever from historical to personal, and immediately before my eyes, beyond the opened door, I now

 

see my life as it would have been had I made different choices at various important junctures during

 

it.

 

            And as I take a long look at all the possible scenarios “laid out” before me, I realize that most

 

times I apparently made correct choices. I must have, because most of the “alternatives” I see before

 

me there appear worse than the reality I’m now actually experiencing in my life, though there are a

 

few portrayals there which I can see would also have been better outcomes and modes of conduct than

 

those I committed, or currently possess and follow.

 

            But at this moment I realize I must “close the door” upon all that could have been, and

 

concentrate upon all that, for better or for worse, simply is, or may yet someday be. Still, at such times

 

as this I often find myself in fear of actually becoming, either figuratively or, as God knows I’m afraid

 

to admit, literally a fictional character sent away from his own birthright to travel upon roads

 

uncharted. And I guess at these times I feel as though I’m a boxer who’s become somewhat proficient

 

at hitting the punching bag during practice, but who knows he’ll not be able to “transfer” that

 

proficiency and use it during an actual bout.

 

            So, as I hope you can “see,” despite many problems and setbacks, today I reckon myself to be

 

someone who’s gained at least a small portion of control over his thoughts and actions. And that

 

very fact is what leads me to believe that the time has now come for me to begin an even more earnest

 

crusade within the human classification of real artist; and that’s a classification I entered long ago

 

upon my graduation from the students of the highway.

 

            Yet, of course those who wish no change to ever occur are constantly attempting to stymie me

 

in my attempts to alter my personality, and thus, my very being. They’re trying to keep me as I am.

 

They claim that’s how I should remain. And yes, I am concerned about their efforts. And I sense those

 

people are negativists! They’re a bane upon my choice to live as I wish. And they don’t even

 

acknowledge the seemingly natural changes in lifestyle which, as years pass, most mortals must make

 

out of what appears to be simple expediency.

 

            But I’m thankful I’ve been able to share these insights into my psyche with you. And this

 

possibility to relate these emotions, thoughts, and thought processes must be, I’m thinking, a part of

 

my personal “test.”

 

Yet, I wonder what will become of the actual physical words I’ve now used to disclose the just

 

mentioned phenomena to you? Will they be considered honest and frank statements of “where” I feel

 

I’m “at” at this point in time, or will they be looked upon as bogus fabrications, related for no other

 

reason than to fool and bewilder the middle class? Well, I hope those words will be understood when

 

read. They sought always only order – only order, and temporal lives lived in preparation for all

 

mortals’ eternal life to come.

 

            And if my words facilitate any evaluations or re-evaluations of how certain lives have been

 

lived, then I’ll judge those words successful. But if they generate any type of confusion, then I must

 

ask that they be re-examined – or at least reread. And why would I ask that? I ask that because

 

confusion is one of the most dreaded banes ever encountered by Ralph Hawk! And may God forbid

 

I ever further it through any of my words or actions.

 

            And, as everyone should know, statements of personal philosophy must be made (in my

 

opinion at least). Yet, sooner or later we all must dispense with philosophizing, and concentrate upon

 

what needs to be done and thought about in the current present. And therefore, before I end this

 

chapter, I want to follow up on something I mentioned at the end of the last one. My friends and I

 

have noticed someone or some ones “tearing around” the city lately in a 1955 Chev. And a little

 

investigative work on our part revealed that apparently that car has two different drivers. It’s owned,

 

and often driven by Lauren Havess, the rich young woman who’s recently returned to our city after

 

having been away from it for a number of years.

 

            And Lauren has come back to our city because as an only child she now owns the factory her dad started in this city long ago and then operated here for many years. And that factory is this city’s

 

largest employer, and most of its workers fear it many now fall victim to mismanagement under

 

Lauren who, if the truth be told, is known mostly for her wild lifestyle. She’s a pleasure seeker one

 

might say, and, most likely, far from CEO material. Yet, I think it’s true that few people know she’s

 

approached me, Ralph Hawk, to help her keep the factory solvent and capable of sustaining its current

 

workforce without layoffs or terminations.

 

            Still, it looks to me as though her purchase of this car from the 1950’s is only another example

 

of irresponsible behavior on her part. And what’s worse, she’s apparently allowing a man named

 

Kenny Asher to drive it about in our city! And believe me, whatever connection there may be

 

between Lauren and Kenny is unknown to me! Yet, Lauren has told me she now wishes to amend her

 

past tendencies and traits. And she’s also said she’s going to remain here now in her city of origin for

 

a protracted length of time; and perhaps permanently.

 

            Thus, I’m at a quandary to understand why Lauren Havess is allowing Kenny Asher to drive

 

her vehicle about in this city! Those two people are certainly opposites in regard to intellectual

 

awareness. And, no, I wouldn’t say Lauren is fantastically interested in our nation’s domestic and

 

foreign problems, but she’s probably aware of them at least! Kenny, on the other hand, is hardly what

 

one might term an intellectual – not that he couldn’t be one if he wished to. But he’s evidently of the

 

opinion that any display of mental prowess is unbecoming a “macho man,” which apparently is what

 

he considers himself to be. And of course while he uses Lauren’s, I’m guessing rather expensive

 

“redone” old Chevrolet, he drives “the crap” out of it, as is stated in a modified version of what for

 

him is his everyday parlance.

 

            And I actually got a phone call last week from his older brother Al, who also lives here in the

 

city (on the south side, as does Kenny). And he told me he’d heard I was a rather influential man here

 

in town, and could I possibly do anything to stop his brother from driving that car, or at least from

 

driving it as he had been. And of course I told him (Al) to contact the police about this matter, and he

 

said he had, and had been told by them that there was nothing they could do concerning it. Thus, I

 

guess this must be just another of those quirky developments which occur in this city from time to

 

time. And I can’t help but think that most likely there is some sort of otherworldly or other reality

 

intervention taking place in regard to this situation, yet, I can’t say that with certainty. All I know for

 

sure is that those black tire marks which Kenny has “laid” on the pavement of some of this city’s

 

streets seem strangely out of place in these days of supposed great environmental concern.   

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