Month: April 2023

Stream of Thought

Do I Dare Believe?

Candid Corvid Productions

The frothy, sticky-layered mucus which is hard to nose-blow out because it keeps coming is an indicator that white blood cells are now coating the lining of my respiratory tract surfaces.

These are the amassed efforts of my body’s immune system rallying to take over and win the fight for my inner territory against virus and/or bacteria waging invasion.

Is it at this point that I must believe the battle is turning in my favor? If so, I must avoid further good bacteria decimating antibiotics and just reach for the nourishing supplements that will rebuild my strength’s defenses…

Stream of Thought

They Need Me

Candid Corvid Productions

I must return to the walk-in and insist upon getting full-spectrum antibiotics.

My lungs are not getting better and my stamina is shakey.

I have not worked for a week and our coffers are barren.

I have clients lined up this next week and I need to be able to help them.

I am a major bread winner – a major contributor for our family.

I must recover now and be able to work my magic.

Stream of Thought

It Feels Like I Am Losing

Candid Corvid Productions

The corruption of time’s breaking down cellular harmony seems inevitable.

The animals are older now and when we should at last be relaxing and happy, the cat’s bodies are more prone to injuries.

Yesterday, our fawn Somali was found torsioned, exhibiting signs of neck and spine trauma. Her knees and hips are getting weaker and she must have fallen from a height at speed.

So I did what I did for my once-fiance’s injured kitten and gave her liquid B-vitamins diluted in water by dropperfuls for the shock. Then, I subjected her neck and spine to intense manual massage and gentle manipulation.

This has worked to help our seizing brown tabby ever since he had a fall, but it was difficult to feel that I am a good person while being the tormenting savior.

Had we taken her to the vet, they would have isolated her and done medical procedures when clearly the issue was muscular. They would have suggested we do an operation or end her life.

Since my first treatment of her, she has still been disoriented but is interested in eating. We put her in a crate for ease of access to what she needs and to support her rest and neural recalibrating.

There is no money in the bank, so it is a waiting game and dependent upon my own home-grown follow-up treatments. I will, however, seek out an animal chiropractor who will be willing to do therapy trade.

To be always on the brink of losing what I love without hope for getting ahead and overcoming weighs heavily on my spirit. I experience life fleetingly passing between my hands while I call the light to help restore it.

I cry to keep its presence in our present.

Stream of Thought

Where Darkness Meets The Light

Candid Corvid Productions

I have traveled down too many darkened corridors, listening for cries of pain from souls without hope so that I might help free them.

Even in the daylight, the dark comes for us – and I have that natural talent just waiting to help ease others’ suffering.

So it is quite the awkward psotition for me to be in when I am the one who is suffering; I am the one who is in pain; I am the one who needs the light bringer to help chase the darkness away.

I have always been independent out of survival’s necessity, and I do not like being hamstrung by trends of parasitical energetic draining.

I feel and look weak. I am a wreck at times emotionally. My passions flare fiercely in self defense when repressed and there are no clear solutions presenting.

I reject myself as a candidate for the kind of amazing man that I am desiring.

He deserves better – and yet, where does this leave me?

On my own again, as usual just…now I am floundering.

Stream of Thought

Receiving

Candid Corvid Productions

It is a bizarre concept of sorts for me to pursue – this idea of looking for a partner so into me that they will be inspired to invest in me.

On one hand, of course both partners ought to be interested in advancing each other’s well being, etc.

But, it jangles my self ego alert to think I should have this as a qualifier.

I guess I am confused/conflicted because usually I am the giver.

Stream of Thought

If I Had “Money”

Candid Corvid Productions

I would finish my bachelor’s so that “big wigs” could feel reassured that they could listen to me.

I would complete the TEFL series so that when I am traveling, I could have fun conversations about language fluency with clients and people I would meet.

I would get my dogs the training they needed so they understood to come back when called and to walk beside me in harmony – instead of pulling this way and that against my hurt shoulders in disharmony.

I would spend more time with my youngling and we would travel back home to visit; go to shows, concerts, and creative events; and do other things that make us feel happy.

I would travel to and help pay for my eldest’s family and extended family to visit us locally.

I would play with the yard and cultivate another hummingbird haven while at last getting not just one – but successive crops of sweet-crunching joy-my-mouth snap peas.

I would back off from worrying if I could lose everything to the next catastrophe, heal my adrenal system, lose weight, and get firm-toned “sexy.”

I would invest in my creative side to discover more of my capabilities, learn more about music and producing, and better train my singing.

I would advocate for the old Duke Energy Plant in Morro Bay to be turned into a sister aquarium to Monterey Bay and the Channel Islands, and for Los Osos central parkland to be restored – crowning it with an environmental tourism center in which would be sold my butterfly bumper stickers for tourists to enjoy and proudly display.

Compositions

Among The Clouds

Candid Corvid Productions

When I turned twenty-one, my beloved and I were recently arrived to San Luis Obispo and I was already disenchanted with employment.

From a small bequeathment upon my cherished grandmother’s passing, we were able to rent The Carriage House on Pepper Street perched on a hill’s incline rising above the railroad tracks.

In a one bedroom square unit with wooden floors raised above two storage garage units, we had a view of the mountains with the moon and sun rising and passing overhead. Down below under the entry stairwell was a small patch of dirt where I first tried my hands at gardening.

I succeeded in growing some small gourds and a huge honeysuckle bush that thick-tendriled all the way up the handrails and along the deck’s sidings with its greenery and tri-colored blooms, fragrantly welcoming winsome hummingbirds.

It was the first time in my life that I felt truly alive, and I began self employment as one of the first-ever environmentally-safe cleaning services based upon the virtues of hard work, morals of environmental ethics, and innovative application of vinegar and baking soda.

We were just a few blocks from downtown and the Fremont Theatre while adjacent to the old tree-laned historical neighborhood. Being on the Southeastern position from Madonna Mountain placed us in the warmest spot of SLO at that time. During summers, we had balmy 80’s – yet better remember to at least take sweaters when visiting Montana de Oro in Los Osos where the ocean’s upwelling currents had fog waiting for us

We held our Thursday evening drum circle gatherings on Pepper, which would echo from the living room down onto the street below – and we would sometimes find people there dancing to our rhythms under the lights and stars. My guy and I trained toegther at The Central California School Of Body Therapy for massage, connected with world music, and played for Belly and Tribal dancers.

We still occasionally rode his motorcycle with me snuggly wrapped around him and holding on tightly. On sunny days, we would wind our way up the curving backroads along Whale Rock Reservoir and into Cambria past hidden homes and sheltered rivers. Sometimes we would go farther up the coast past San Simeon’s Hearst Castle, through the salt spray afternoon breezes while glimpsing wild zebras and Elephant Seals.

On the way home, we would stop for dinner at our favorite spot called The Whale’s Tale in Morro Bay for the best clam chowder and batter-fried fish strips that hot-melted apart in our mouths with crisped potato slices. I was in love with my quick-witted rogue stoicist; I wanted to be in love him; and I knew we had been given a glimpse of Heaven in our Central Coast Californian paradise.

Stream of Thought

Oh…Duh!

Candid Corvid Productions

Upon going to the walk-in to have my lungs checked and finding no fluid by x-ray (given the amount of crackling, coughing, and wheezing), the doctor prescribed me prednisone to help reduce inflammation.

After procurring the medication, I decided to try 1/4 of the dose prescribed this afternoon to test my reaction – rather than the 20mgs prescribed in the morning – with side effects mildly warned that I could experience some anxiety.

Once I swallowed the cracked component, second by second, exponentially cascade-magnifying symptoms erupted – and I knew that I had done something wrong.

My face suddenly filled with that heavy, bags-under-bloodshot-eyes feeling; I felt a numbing, drugged-out feeling overtaking me; my consciousness began immediately shutting down as if I were about to pass out; and the left side of my chest began experiencing increasing squeezing pressure.

I called my family support team and the walk-in to let them all know that I was hurrying back for observation. The clinic found that my blood pressure was elevated to way above its normal routine, so I stayed in the clinic chest down on an exam table with my legs elevated until my body could reduce it back toward self regulation.

I should have realized that one should not take a stimulant when they already have a depleted adrenal system – but the doctor had seemed so sure that a steroid was the correct lung solution.