“A good bone bake in a stable summer’s sun is what you need,” cackled the woman attending her.
“Child, think of the type of environment where you grew up – what your growing body got used to.
You just need a little reset, is all. Especially after all the cold dreary you’ve been put through!”
A whisper of cold
Chills to the bone
As if no muscles
Protect outside.
Layers absorb the
Impression easily
And cannot protect
Warmth, struggling.
It’s the loud, obnoxious kids that always got attention, gaining reward without merit like baby birds competing in a nest for survival.
But, all those baby birds that were more quiet and since diminished for lack of nourishment could have been keys to their species’ survival.
Just like introverts take the time to understand reasons and find solutions to ways that are no longer viable.
For now, I put off eating when hungry.
Corruption has been a thematic.
Wherever I go, it soon follows.
It’s gotten so that I want to look over my shoulder.
I flinch now when things happen around me – as if I’ve caused them to go sour.
But it isn’t me – it’s my timing.
I arrive where there is light, or I bring it.
And darkness hates the light, so seeks to dim it.
Humans are ever gullible and believe things at face value.
Therefore, they are easy for the dark to manipulate.
An example of this is when I was a child.
I used to go down the street to the place with the chain link fence and roses.
All the kids and parents said to stay away from there because the man was weird and the woman hated you if you touched her roses.
But, I couldn’t stay away because I love flowers, and nowhere were there any so beautiful.
I used to walk or ride my bike by and wave to the lady tending them.
She’d give me the evil eye in a kind of “hiss” for giving her attention.
I never touched her roses, but would lean across to smell them.
Maybe this is when I learned how to properly appreciate them.
i used to chide the other children not to hurt them.
She’d catch me doing this, but the rule was that I couldn’t touch them.
She saw I couldn’t help myself, and that I was persistent.
I asked her questions, and despite gruff replies, was always respectful.
We began having brief conversations about the roses and her love for them.
One day, she let me into her garden.
It was starkly bare on the lawn, but with the roses all along the perimeter as a guardian barrier.
They kept the bad outside their home.
They kept the neighbors’ judgement from infiltrating.
Over time, she invited me into her home and one day proudly shared that she enjoyed making chocolate pudding pies, and gave me some.
They were the best pies on the planet! and I was rarely allowed any treats at home.
Nothing compared to how good her pies tasted.
Her brother, the one everyone suspected of pedophilia, would allow me into his side den and share all the best, cheesy sci-fi movies.
We watched Godzilla and the giant ants attack the planet, while discussing philosophies of whether the humans should be saved.
We watched the giant praying mantis attack cities, and I cried when the military destroyed it – misunderstanding its needs to just survive.
He never laid a hand on me, and we were buddies.
Then one day, I shared my happy secret with my mother about these wonderful people and how good they treated me.
She had not realized I was spending most of my time with them – instead of with the block’s mean, ignorant children.
She then went and spoke with the lady and her brother.
Then, my friends no longer greeted me with trust and welcome.
I could still come over – but no pie, and no movies – because my mother had stated these rules.
The lady became more stressed and worn with every visit.
She had opened her home now to more children, and could give pie to them – but not to me.
She knew I wanted and needed this love, more than anybody.
We had been the first to share her pie’s secret.
She couldn’t handle the distress of both our heartbreak – so pushed me away and let other children take my place.
I was now a complication with rules to follow – which she feared and resented.
Her brother also distanced, angry I had shared our adventures.
I tried to explain it was because they were so lovely, that I appreciated him, and thst he was beautiful.
He shouldn’t hide away from people.
Later, be became active and brave in the church-going community, supporting and being there for children.
But then, he felt I’d betrayed him and holed away, turning against his own identity in shame.
He became as if slimy because he wouldn’t bathe as much.
I began to feel that vibe people had spoken of exuding from him, and no longer sought his company.
It was as if he transformed into what others expected of him.
And the pure beauty of kinship’s inclusiveness faded away.
(An ode to Esther and Ernest, my first genuine friends.)
Extroverts seem to love always being on the surface of their consciousness, ready with a quick word of response and knowing exactly how they’d take quick command of a situation.
I am not sure if it’s from all of the head trauma or past suppressive abuse, but in my mind, there’s a layer of disconnect.
In healing sessions, my receive-and-response time is instant because I am more fully in the moment while my consciousness is firmly tethered to my senses.
But, in the external world, overt reaction takes a back seat, as the rest of me absorbs data of others’ intentions for later analysis and response reflection.
I’ve wanted to have the time, space, and money to invest in and read/explore concepts presented here, and to discover how they apply to my own creative process.
I have not received any response from the office regarding my request for fair play’s reconsidering.
Pedantic misrepresentation and lack of moral ethics seems widerspread than effects of the pandemic.
People have a hard time reconciling that a deep thinker is not necessarily judging and can also have playful and neutral aspects to them.
Prebias tends to want to.categorize and justify white-washed conclusions – possibly because many people have not diversified much in their own personality aspects.
And, when you are capable of being and expressing more dynamicly than those you frequently encounter, the world can seem devoid of reciprocative cheer – and full of idiocy.
This idea that my life can become financially stable when dependent upon others for employment is fecking hilarious!
And then, that this dependence could give me solid ground on which to pursue my creativy?
Hogwash!
The negative reinforcement of dealing with unstable employers keeps making me feel as if I am incredibly naive for trusting others.
These crash-and-burn experiences insinuate that I am avoiding my own responsibility by expecting others to follow through on their obligations and to “support me” in exchange for the work I give them.
I am made to feel as though I am a “worthless” worm, fit for little more than crawling in the dirt and eating others’ waste products.
I’ll have you know that worms create the foundation for everything.
Without earth worms, we would not have the oh-so-thin microlayer of biomaterial that supports the feeding and productivity of almost every life form on this planet.
Get your “shit” in perspective, people – and treat each other humanely!
Tell me what having one is like – be it between one’s self and the world; between the feeling of security vs. another’s enmity; or even any give-and-take flex in interactive relationships.
Is it something you’ve ever experienced, or is the real truth only that having one is a myth – like getting to ride a unicorn?
The little girl sobs as the dark energies
Squeeze her heart and distort thinking:
They riddle like worms into everything –
Causing her body pain and discomfort.
She tries spells of warding, yet weakened,
Can only lay down, suffering as twitching.
How does one remove from their self the guilt from others’ sins and the shame of their condemnation?
When congestion begins to thicken into white blood cell-laden mucosa, it layers passageways of one’s sinuses in head and neck along lymphatic channels, putting pressure on tympanic membrane and other balance orientation regulators.
What I dislike most about this process is the feeling of being “socked in” – as if pulled into myself, smothered, and seeing everything from too far away of a distance.
I ordered the same griiled sandwhich: gluten-free bread, cucumber, lettuce, carrots, pea sprouts, stoneground mustard, mayo, roast beef, and provolone cheese.
How can something that initially is large and fluffy just melt and disintegrate into your mouth – as if it was nothing?
This must truly be “Food of the Gods.”
Wherever she went
It’s shadow followed,
Dimming the bright
Into shades, hollow.
She dared not let
Her emotions react –
For then its poison
Would counteract
Wards she created
To keep at distance
Creeping vines of
Despair’s resistance
To banishment
From existence.
When they first met, she thought, “Ah, if only I could have one such as this,” lamenting her age, and thus missed opportunity.
Why now, when she knew much more and could see more clearly, was she societally not allowed to seek congruity with a man sharing similar interests, ready to start a family?
She told him that because of their age difference, they could only be friends, and that she thought it would be great for him to visit.
But, over the next several months, she realized how precious his heart was, and that she didn’t want it to get hurt by another’s rough using, so she committed to him.
Looking back now, after years invested, only to be turned away at the alter’s door by him, she reflected how she’d initially assessed they should only be friends.
Yes, the adventure-turned-into-long-journey had yielded her own personal growth benefits, but she’d also sacrificed and endured much hardship – which in the end, again left her empty handed.
So what was the lesson here? Should she not have tried like in the band Heart’s song, “Dog and Butterfly?”
Or was there no fault at all on her part, and it was the boy who’d been afraid to rise?
Post nasal drip: Ack – it’s got me!
Filling up my lungs, making it hard to breathe and causing coughing.
I think deeply about things, and when I deeply think, I then think deeper.
It’s like being on an escalator that rises, then descends and goes side to side – analyzing from various angles to determine where something ends and begins in its breadth and spectrums.
If someone arbitrarily kicks you to the curb to save their own skin without questing for a better alternative, are they really someone you’d want to partner with in business or personal relationship?
As a hopeful optimist, I often initially give people “the benefit of doubt” – and am beginning to wonder if maybe I shouldn’t.
“Aim for the sky, because even if you miss, you’ll still be among the stars.”
How do you miss the sky and still be among the stars?
Choose carefully between the seen and the unseen, for intuition may guide you only so far as the truth is not actively hidden.
I’ve had it proven my therapies are beneficial and needed, yet in what forum may I be received and welcome?
My life must become more than managing others’ “fuckery” and its negative affects on me and my family!
I do not like conflict.
A popular phrase says that conflict is key to growth.
Some people greet conflict with alacrity – and even crave it to “get another’s goat.”
Conflict to me is a symptom that something is not working right, or has become broken.
It is not to be lauded as an ideal, but an indicator we must address an issue to a better solution – beyond mere token.
I felt that if I said anything, this could cause overreaction.
It wasn’t that I was at all wrong – but that people are easily threatened.
Monicultures in any forum diminish diversity, weaken creative adaptability – and thus, destroy functional systems.
“To reach for the impossible dream” and seek for things unseen.
But, if I am, then crazy is what I’ve got to be.
My youngest captured our playcul frippery and texted to me what we said:
Me: “What is stuck on this power strip that’s making it all weirdly sparkly?”
Mom: “The blood of children?”
Me: “??????”
Mom: “I was going to say ‘blood of elves’ but I didn’t wanna piss the elves off.”
Me: “As opposed to the children??”
Mom: “Well, they’re not around anymore!”
(I am still laughing, and my youngest comments my laugh is like I know this is f-ed up, but it’s the funniest thing ever that I said it. We have a lot of fun being silly and saying things to catch each other off guard.)
I believed we were alike when I reached out to you, and I believed our commonality could mutually benefit.
But, you showed me that what mattered to you more was finding your carbon copy.
The people represented with angel number 446 are very sweet, emotional, generous, thoughtful, caring, and famous people. This number has people who want to help others, and they need to live in an environment where there is peace, tranquility, balance, and harmony, and in short, everything is stable.
http://www.angelnumbersmeaning.com/446
(In internet searches, I take what feels like it fits – and discard the rest.)
“The creation of a thousand forests is in one acorn.”
The effects of events’ actions change according to one’s position within their self, relative to “reality.”
Bwaaaahhhh.
(Sound reference to movie “Inception.”)
A thought often enters my mind as to whether or not I should make this site be anonymous.
For I am out in the world, promoting myself as a professional, and anyone at any time could happen upon these writings.
People who do not know themselves well enough to have reached the point of being able to accept others’ flaws mixed with capabilities can have too much reactivity and desire to destroy others’ reputations if they feel uncomfortable about something.
Additionally, some people put their whole life’s efforts into creating an impenetrable persona presentation that they can hide behind, which they think is then infallible.
But, all of us are squishy on the inside.
And we are always just still learning and adjusting.
It matters to me that I be allowed to be seen because I am not just another zombie, shuffling.
I stretch words to meanings that their initial conveyance seems to imply to me.
For example, this word “truism.”
To me, this word can mean what seems to be true, but isn’t necessarily true.
The word conveys sense of a field of active illusion surrounding some things.
It promotes sense of what we might see as true, but could actually be a veiled inaccurate conclusion.
Consensus is a dicey word.
It’s elusive if people involved in a decision allow their fears and insecurities to overtake them.
It’s dangerous if a person depends on such people’s perspectives.
Today, I have been fired from an amazing job that I put every effort toward to move here and secure.
Why, you ask?
Because the people involved could not follow through on the offer they initially promised me – and then decided without consulting me that my position there was no longer a good fit.
Back to reenrolling in unemployment for me?
Back to walking the streets, looking for worthy humanity to believe in and collaborate with?
No.
I fought back. I fought to regain my position.
It is a great clinic – and I belong there.
No one – I mean NO ONE – is just going to be allowed to disolve my investments without at least my stating my case to them, loud and clear.
Grow up, people – and get over your fears!
We have a world to save here!
I have not found that I can count on any adults for longer than temporary, and thus I may only commit to alliances that will not easily vary.
The ground I’ve gained now must be secured and fortified, for investing in myself prevents being compromised.
The blackbirds I like are not on the song, but have a different particularly sweet cadence to their singing – although those on the recording are also quite fetching!
Candid Corvid Productions 