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They are beckoning me.

I know that I am stubborn but I feel them every day. I awake in the morning from a sleep that is more than unrest the whole sleep period has become a farce. More like a permanent nightmare. They are coming for me at first the beckoning gestures, the smiles and what is worse, the promises. The promises just to get me to succumb and give in to them. They do not know what a stubborn coot I am. What are promises just words, words given so lightly but words after all? Who is there to make them keep to their promises?

Why do the want me is it because of my age, is their something about me that fascinates them why do they want me to join them after all I do not know them and I am convinced that I do not want to know them So why beckon me across the voids that separate us from each other. Why the harassment every night do they think that lack of sleep will make me fall a prey to their rather silly attempts to get me to join them.

These beings for that is what they are just beings of no known species. Do they guide all that live or have lived on this earth from the beginning of plankton in the oceans unto modern Homo sapiens of modern day? Did they beckon the dinosaurs and that was before them. Have they always been on this earth placed here by some unrelenting something with a hatred of all that is on this Earth.

No I am not talking about those winged fancy creatures that many want us to believe in. My beckoners are not Angels whatever they are, no one knows, those that have seen them, do they all get this feeling of frustration that is plaguing me at this very moment? Will they be there when it is time for you to make your final departure from this world? Will you too be bothered and tormented by these mysterious things that promise such luxury if only you will join them. I hope not. I hope that you like me will have the energy to fight them off like I have done for the last year. Who knows perhaps it is this continuous fighting that is keeping me alive. If this is the case then I trust that more of these tormenting beings come to join in the fight, I do so want to reach the age of at least one hundred years, with my full faculties.

Blow the trumpets. Raise the standards that all may see the fight going on between the frail human, Me and the beings from no one knows where they are from that are tempting me to go with them. Let the swords of truth sever the bonds holding these fierce nothings so tight in deadly embrace with my weakened body that will not give in. Bern