Author: Candid Corvid Productions

How does one regain it while their Maslow’s keeps getting erased?

She had just finished the first wave of taking apart the dog’s yard and releveling to make it nice and happened to be relocking the slider door when she noticed the landlord walking across her backyard area with a clipboard, scrutinizing her progress and items ready for packing while noting and/or checking off on paper.

The landlord had not given 24 hours notice, nor announced she and her workers would be all over their unit’s property nearly every day working on the upstairs unit for the last four weeks.

They had not been notified of post repairs for the base of the balcony above them just outside their window – with the old post now just left there hanging. And a desk had been left on their front porch the entire time, while dust and noise pollution infiltrated their unit through their side door.

Letting myself take the night off is tantamount to sin.

I work out at low weights to realign core balance stabilizer muscles to reinforce and ensure ability’s strength.

Lately when she went to workout, the sorcerer’s thrall attempted to lay claim to her aware consciousness. She asked Source to help purge his infatuous influence, and for God to severe attachments, unsure when all of this had begun and grateful for the help in removing this psychic parasitism.

Release the attachment to/of psychological and emotional burdens society ascribes to?

What I planned would happen was different from how things were actually proceeding, so I retained the truck to keep personal maneuvering.

I’m not going to keep playing this game of “Wait” and dead ends…

Having cleaned out the truck and strategized leaving my car at the shop and walking back to get the truck ONCE for efficiency’s self preservation, upon returning to the truck I discovered that its key was no longer in my pocket!

I am not perfect.

I makes mistakes.

But, I try to amend them.

I cannot simultaneously attend every moving component, which is resulting in our leaving before we know where we are going.

“I am not just another moth to your flame.”

It is more difficult to move out of a place than into a new one. This goes for homes, paradigms – etc.

When I first heard “Seas Of Cheese” in early 1990’s, that was when we lived on the upper story of tbe Biddle House, where the tiny fluff, perfectly designed flame-shaped owl feather floated into my open-to-palm-tree-window, and I was sewing our union’s first Ren clothing and patchwork, finely innerlined capes.

Fascinated by the album’s auditory and cover concept art, I wondered how Primus had developed to that point, and how and in what ways I could follow after in expressing my own prospective creative ingenuities.

Her strategy up until 2011 had been to navigate around the crazy. Since “The Fall,” it was as if an unseen force kept pulling her forward, straight through it. She hoped this meant she was on a shortcut to greater gains and positive influences.

Where others weave entrapments, I seek to be released from their entanglements – stretching to fly on new wings.

She was on a mission. It just had not defined its purpose to her in coherent, strategic revelation.

Given warning, all she could do was keep trying and watch the slide-downward-effect increase its slant as time accelerated to culminate in their launch into the Unknown’s abyss.

“If I’m gonna die on the streets, I’ll do it my way.”

I will not descend to emotional games other people play. They are wasteful, outdated, and turn blue skies to gray.

She just wanted to blast, “Stay away from me – and get off of my property!” To the landlord’s continuous gay frolicking outside with the workmen as they spread their mess and noise above and all around her in the final days that her family had.

Because “forgiveness” in Christianity is often paired with “turning the other cheek” (so you get smacked again), I do not necessarily forgive – but, I acknowledge.

It helps that I am taking things into my own hands and getting us out of other peoples’toxic, fear-based paradigms.

After a long day in her hiking boots (even working out at the gym wearing them), she had kicked them off and gone barefoot late in the evening, and they had had sweat on them.

So tired that she did not shower, she lay down and tried to calm her system, only to realize she had four small bites on her feet, itch-flaring with pain-filled sensation.

Mosquitos are like scammers, bad politicians, and conmen still addicted to chemicals: they’re always seeking opportunity; like landlords and mechanics who try to negatively leverage their own security.

Yeah, ever since the car issue this afternoon and us realizing our cat’s system is no longer regulating, my system’s just gone into high alert.