Oh-Kay

How are you?
1) O.k.
2) OKay
3) O.W.

If you answered 1, “o.k.”-
      you are a contemporary.
   Same with 2.
One theory says it comes from “all correct”…

Simplifying to phonetic with a spin it becomes oll korrect…
Then “okay”, “o.k.”

#3 is the predessesor.
OW is
“Oll wright”.
    As in “ALL (is) RIGHT
Kind of dumb?
THAT is the point.

I suppose saying “o.k.” is less annoying than “IDK”- I dunno.
Why do you not know?

I analyze my feelings to the marrow. I like to say I am okay (o.k.) if people ask because (A) I am alive.

There is no B. Or C. Or more, because I have a painful condition. It gives me sick ideas that I think are minimally offensive and maximally entertaining… to a low level of pro writer.

My ideas to me are hell.
If someone asks me, “What is on your mind?” And I say, “Oh I am so glad I am 40 and not 15 (I flashback less now).”
I endured a hernia for a year and at first the pain shot into my back.

       It was more fantasticly awesome than a near death experience because of how very truly Auschweitz the pain was for the next 18 months. I have a level of autism spectrum disorder along with hereditary angioedema. I could not define or express my pain.

         I freaked my mom out. Adults should have known better than to teach ANY kid that God sends unbelieving persons to hell. There should be a license for that. There isn’t.

    There was a big emphasis that you feel good when you know God loves you.

So I:

Had a religion over my head.
Had a very finite way to deal with pain.
Had maximum pain. And I still do. HAE is an “8 everyday” pain.

Honestly, I redid my mind.
I figure with this eating me, Aesop’s lion with a thorn is me. My rescuer? Not a mouse.

Actually, I ransacked the old religion and put the man with a wood throne from 33 A.D. next to me. Crucified, we talk back to back for LIFE. I deserve what? That old argument of sin and scumbags is dead. I have needs and my sin is being pathetic.

       You would never know what I feel if you met me. I am one of God’s best kept secrets.

     As for you, are you o.k.?

     If you donate a $1,000,000 love gift to my mini-series, ministries, menses- you would be a knuckle-head.
I don’t have that.

     In Arabia they call my stare way to heaven “Isa Il-masaih”. I stare away like a goober St. Bernard… he drags me along the sea shore.

     ONE set of foot prints the whole way. And kicks and tons of dog shit.

     Are you suprised to hear a holy man say shit? I am not holy. Shit, man… HE is.

    The military has an allowance of cussing. In the Lord’s army, I avoid fuck the f-bomb. I mean I avoid the f-bomb. Why? One reason. I don’t know what the hell it means. I am not speaking in tongues here. Every language of man is junk weight.

     You ever frame a word that you have said?

    I frame in my head.
I do not know how that works.

  A scripture says

May God be true and every man a liar. I am bracing myself. Stellar order and mercy will come to me yet again.

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