Ada’s Place
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Ada’s Place

Time to Eat Your Words (29/30)

Spring a wing, from your back.

Once upon a time a troll met me at a crossing and said you cannot cross without paying a toll.

I asked what the toll was, and he refused to say. He said it wasn’t my place to cross anymore.

I said how come?

He said it’s because there are others who wish to cross besides myself and I have been crossing too much.

I mentioned how I thought that wasn’t fair, and the troll didn’t care.

The troll also did not let my father pass.

Said it wasn’t his place to cross anymore either.

And so then I went and took the entire fucking day I would have spent writing to build a bridge at a place that was my designated space. I called the bridge Ada’s Place. And from there, the troll came over and complained that I had the bridge there, and that it was not a bridge like the other bridges because it only had 6 customers, and therefore I could not charge a toll, when all I wanted was to get across. That’s all my father and I ever wanted. You know, fair treatment. Not to be discriminated against and defamed for creating beautiful bridges. So we just happened to receive a toll from the faithful people passing by because they said my father and I were so much more pleasant to deal with than the troll, and that the troll made it hard for just about anyone wishing to build a bridge to have an opportunity to build at all. Because deep down, the troll was afraid of others doing better than him, or getting more recognition, or living prosperously. It was a strange troll for sure.

But not so strange in that neck of the woods, where other trolls are prominent, and envious, too. They don’t do anything to upkeep their own bridges, but they increase the pricing all the same, while criticizing others.

Meanwhile, my father and I can’t help but to receive all this money and praise for maintaining a real strong, healthy bridge for people to cross without any issues at all.

We build our bridges vote by vote, and common donation.

Our customers like that I am an ordained minister, too. I handle weddings at my bridge by donation.

And to think, there are trolls out there that call this a catastrophe:

I say — let God handle the trolls. Don’t even give them the time of day anymore.

So this will be the last time I mention the troll. Because my bridge is really working well and it’s nice and strong and it’s not going anywhere, now that it’s sponsored by a community that believes in lifters more than they do in leaners.

Fuck the leaners of this world.

I’m a lifter. I do my part. I lift, especially when other’s lean.

Here’s my proof, on the Summer Solstice:

The whole book is here for free thanks to Cardano voters:

Here’s the previous segment on Medium:



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